


Heart of a Bear

by MaroonCamaro



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Angst, Eventual Smut, I Don't Want To Give Away The Story In The Tags, I hate tagging, Lori Dies, M/M, Period-Typical Racism, Racist Merle, Slow Burn, more tags as I post, my first long fic, there will be angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-06-07 17:10:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 68,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6815410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaroonCamaro/pseuds/MaroonCamaro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick picks up Merle for a bounty. Merle insists he's looking for his 'baby' brother who has been taken in by the Cheyenne and offers to give Rick the money he stole in exchange for finding Daryl.  Rick is more concerned with his own family and only decides to go after the boy because Lori made him promise. </p><p>Rick soon discovers that the 'baby' is a full grown man and doesn't want to be found. Rick figures out a way to convince Daryl to come back with him, but at what price?  Will a vow to his dead wife be worth the heartache that he will put Daryl through?  And will Rick understand his own heart before it is too late?</p><p>*This fic is complete and will be posted on Tuesdays and Fridays.*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lucife56](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucife56/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Fanart TWD](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4285650) by [lucife56](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucife56/pseuds/lucife56). 



> Ok, so I've been working on this fic for a very, very, long time. And I totally blame [lucife56](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lucife56/pseuds/lucife56) . She drew me a lovely picture for Nut Hand and I offered to write a fic for any of her drawings that she wanted. She chose [This one](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4285650/chapters/11007086), and since I can't do anything half way, I wrote 25 chapters of angsty western. So this fic is for her.
> 
> There are many, many people to thank. If I wasn't encouraged, cajoled, and threatened every other day, this wouldn't have ever been posted. 
> 
> First to the lovely and talented [Michelle_A_Emerlind](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Michelle_A_Emerlind/pseuds/Michelle_A_Emerlind) for her tireless beta work and constant insistence that this did not suck.
> 
> And to my dear friends [Skarlatha](http://archiveofourown.org/users/skarlatha/pseuds/skarlatha) , [TWDObsessive](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TWDObsessive/pseuds/TWDObsessive) , 1lostone , s0urw0lf , and [April_Valentine](http://archiveofourown.org/users/April_Valentine/pseuds/April_Valentine) for all their encouragement and shoulders that I cried on. 
> 
> A very special thank you to [KatyTheInspiredWorkaholic](http://archiveofourown.org/users/KatyTheInspiredWorkaholic/pseuds/KatyTheInspiredWorkaholic) who was always there to listen to me whine and checking to make sure I didn't sound too lame. 
> 
> I love you all.

Rick wiped the sweat from his brow with his dirty bandanna and stuck his hat back on his head. He'd been on this trail all day and it was powerful hot. But he'd gotten a good lead on ol' Merle Dixon and he wasn't going to give up just 'cause he was a little uncomfortable.

He was worried about Walker though. His horse was a fine gelding and stood seventeen hands high, a beautiful roan with one white sock. He was the smartest, most hard working horse Rick’d ever owned. They'd stopped under an outcropping at high noon so that Walker could cool down a bit, but Rick was worried about making him sick. So he'd wiped the overheated horse down and watered him from his canteen before moving on at a slower pace.

There was a bounty on Dixon, five hundred dollars, and Rick intended to collect. That would help to pay off the loan on his homestead and put some in the bank for a rainy day. Lori, his wife, was talking about sending their son Carl back east for schoolin', but Rick really didn't want to send his boy away. Not yet anyhow.

Walker gave a low 'huff' sound as they came around a hill, meaning there were other horses around. They must be close if he noticed the presence of other horses. Rick pulled back on the reins, no sense in moseying into danger.

Easing out of his saddle, he searched the area around him, wary of an ambush. Dixon was supposedly on his own out here, but he was known to have friends. The kind of friends that shot first and asked questions later.

But other than the shifting of his horse, Rick couldn't hear a thing. Which could be good, or could be bad. Could be because there was a gang of men that had crosshairs on him right now, or could be because there was no one around to worry about.

He got his horse secured and then crouch-walked until he could see a small tent pitched next to a spring. That must have been what Walker had sensed, the water. There didn't seem to be any other horses around, or people for that matter. There was a smoking fire pit next to the tent, the fire out, but nothing else besides that and the tent to show human habitation.

Rick got down to elbow crawl to a better position. He would watch for a bit to see if there was any action before barreling in there. Looks could be deceiving.

He made sure to peer around him every once in awhile, it wouldn't do to have the outlaw sneak up on him. Dixon had gotten away from a posse down in Oklahoma by sneaking up and knocking out the guy sent to watch the house he was holed up in. Rick wouldn't make that mistake.

The tent was about a hundred yards down the slope from where he was currently. It was hot, even in the shade of the evergreen he was hiding under. Rick wiped his brow again with his bandana, sure that he was leaving behind as much dirt as the sweat he was able to wipe away. Sometimes to get your man, you had to wait. And Rick was good at waiting.   

Nearly an hour of laying in the dirt and craning his neck in all directions, Rick decided he would chance it. It would be dark in just a few short hours and he wanted to be well on his way back to town by then. Alexandria had a nice jail, but an even nicer hotel that Rick planned on sleeping at tonight.

Creeping in a low crouch, his colt forty-five drawn and ready, he made his way to the tent. He'd stopped just before the creek, looking for a quiet place to cross, when he heard a loud snort from inside the tent. Immediately he pointed his gun at the front flap, but nothing else happened for several heart beats, so he continued his perusal of the water in front of him.

He spotted a couple of rocks that he could use to make a quiet crossing. Once he got to the other side, he carefully walked all the way around the tent, making sure the slippery felon didn't have an escape route.

After Rick assured himself there were no other exits, he crept to the front and, using the barrel of his gun, pulled a flap aside far enough that he could peek in. The first thing he noticed was a mostly empty bottle of whiskey. Then he noticed was the tent was a mess, the sleeping roll wadded in a corner, another empty bottle of whiskey, and a saddle bag with its contents strewn about.

The best thing he noticed was that Merle Dixon was flat on his back, drool sliding down the side of his face, and his pants around his knees. He'd obviously gotten piss drunk and then passed out. And Rick had been out in the damn sun for an hour worried about an ambush.

Rick restrained the unconscious man and removed his prosthetic arm, careful of the hook,  before pulling his pants up and buttoning them closed. Dixon snored through it all. Since Rick was on a timetable and couldn't wait for the man to wake up, he drug the drunk out to the creek and dunked his head. Several times.

After the sixth or seventh dunking Merle Dixon came to, cussing and coughing.

“What... _ cough _ ,  _ cough _ ...the hell... _ cough _ ?”

“Merle Dixon? My name’s Rick Grimes and I'm here to take you in for a bounty. Now we can do this the easy way or the hard way, your choice.”

Merle was weakly thrashing around, trying to get away from Rick, but since he was already trussed up, all he accomplished was getting wetter. “My boys will have your balls for this!” 

“I doubt it, Joe and his gang that you hooked up with got taken out in a gunfight a week ago,” Rick informed the still sluggish Dixon.

“Joe and his gang? They's some tough sons a bitches. Who took 'em out?” Dixon asked as Rick hauled him to his feet.

“Me.”

That seemed to shut the him up for a minute. If Rick would have known how much the asshole would talk all the way back to town, he would have appreciated that minute more. But, hindsight is twenty-twenty, so to speak.

It had taken only a few minutes to gather the tent and the contents together and then to secure his prisoner with a rope tied to Rick's saddle. It would only be until he got back to where he'd left the spare horse, which was just about a mile back down the trail.

“What you say your name was?”

“Rick Grimes.”

“You a lawman?”

“No.”

“Bounty hunter?”

“Yes.”

“How'd you find me?”

Rick answered enough questions for the time being, so chose to ignore that last question.

“I said 'How'd you find me?’!”

Rick shut his eyes and started to count to ten. He heard Dixon take a deep breath to ask the question again, no doubt louder, so he figured he might as well answer.

Turning around in his saddle to look Dixon in the eye he said, “I was a scout in the army during the Cheyenne war.”

“Yer shitting me!”

“No, I ain't 'shitting' you.” Rick turned forward again and hoped that would shut up Dixon, but it only opened a flood gate.

“They stole my baby brother!” Dixon shouted.

“The Cheyenne? Then he's dead,” Rick said matter-of-factually. He'd seen the evidence of a Cheyenne war party, they killed the men and the boys.

“No! I got it on good authority that he's alive and up in Montana. I was on my way there to get him.” 

“You think the Cheyenne would leave him alive for you just to come up and get him when you felt like it?” Rick shook his head at the naivety. 

“Look, I know you don't believe me. Hell, they killed my ma and pa! But I met a trader that said he seen my baby brother.” If Rick didn’t know any better, he’d think his captive was actually sincere. 

“What's this trader's name?” He knew quite a few of the traders. Most of them were an unsavory lot, out to exploit the natives, but there were a few he wouldn't mind sharing a whiskey with.

“Hershel Greene.”

Damn. Hershel Greene was a white haired, bible thumping, old coot. But he was known far and wide for his fairness and his dead shot. And if he said he'd seen Dixon's baby brother, then it was a fair certainty that the kid was still alive with the Cheyenne.

“Look, Grimes, if you find my baby brother, I'll tell you where I hid the money.”

That stopped Rick cold. Merle Dixon was wanted for robbing a Union Pacific train carrying the military pay for Fort Collins. Luckily, no one had been killed, or Dixon would be facing the hangman's noose. As it was, he'd gotten away with nearly twenty thousand dollars.

“Ain't interested in stolen money.”

“Nah, not an upstanding man like you! 'Course not! But just think what kind a hero you'd be if you brought most of that money back with me?” Dixon had sidled up to Rick, his arm and one hand raised in supplication. Rick stopped and gave Dixon his best forbidding stare until the fugitive got the hint and backed up.

“Ain't interested in being a hero neither.” All the ‘heroes’ Rick had ever met had been men who puffed themselves up to be more than what they were.  Rick didn’t want, or need, any more attention than he got. 

“I'll bet you they'll let you keep a bit of it for your trouble,” he was still trying to convince the bounty hunter.

Rick doubted that, it was the U.S. Army's money after all. He'd worked with them long enough to know that they might thank him for finding the money, but never give him a bit of a reward. Hell, he could end up with a pretty ribbon, but definitely no cold hard cash.

“Merle Dixon, you must not have ever dealt with the Army if you believe that,” Rick snorted out.

“Oh, I dealt with 'em. Quite a few of 'em met the business end of my bayonet back in '62.”

Right, Dixon had been a Confederate soldier. He'd only fought for a few months before losing his hand to a gunshot wound. He'd spent the rest of the war getting used to the shiny hook that Rick had taken off of him before waking him.

The bounty hunter shook his head before turning back to his captive, “Someone will find that money, it just ain't gonna be me. I'm just after you.”

“I just needed it to try and buy back my baby brother.”

“The Cheyenne won't care about American dollars and you'd be lucky they didn't shoot you on sight.” Rick kept his eyes on the trail, talking to Dixon was giving him a headache.

“Come on, man. He's just a baby with them damn injuns!” Dixon actually sounded legitimately concerned about his brother. 

“If you can keep your damn mouth shut until we get back to town, I'll go talk to Hershel Greene.” That was the most that Rick would offer.

“You got a deal, Grimes. Won’t hear nuthin’ outta me until we get back to town.”

Dixon was true to his word and kept his mouth shut until they got to where Rick had left the other horse and the rest of his supplies. The outlaw looked like he was going to say something until Rick gave him a hard stare and he thought better of it.

Rick quickly got the pack horse ready for Dixon to ride him, moving some of it's pack to Walker's flank. He still had Dixon's tent and supplies tied there, so Walker was none too happy to get more.

“Sorry buddy, but ol' Nick can't carry the whole load and Dixon too,” he said to his horse.

Rick helped Dixon onto Nick's back (he was sure the man was making it much harder than it needed to be) and secured him to the saddle as best he could. It was a little tricky considering that he only had one hand, but Rick was able to feel confident his man wouldn't get away. He also had a lead from Nick tied to his saddle, so Dixon couldn't get the pack horse to run. Walker could catch him easy enough, but Rick really wanted to get back to town.

***

The sun was just setting as they made it back to Alexandria, all the shops closed for the night with the exception of the saloon and the jail. Rick had let the local sheriff know he planned on bringing in Dixon today. It was a little later than he intended, but he'd gotten his man.

Dixon had a hard time keeping quiet, but after a few rounds of, “shut up or I won't look for your brother”, he finally settled on whistling. He could keep a tune, so Rick decided he could live with that. He wasn't much of a talker himself, but the whistling kept it from getting too quiet. It also let him know exactly where Dixon was at all times.

Rick tied up Walker and went and knocked on the door of the sheriff's office, keeping one eye on Dixon. Rick could hear the lawman inside coming to the door, his spurs clanking on the wooden floor.

The guy, Sheriff Shane Walsh, was a bit of an ass in Rick's opinion, always chasing after skirts and walking around with his chest puffed out. He seemed to like Rick just fine though, and that was all that mattered. Rick could just pretend to like the lawman.

“Well, if it ain't Rick Grimes the bounty hunter! Got cha' a live one I see,” the dark haired man said when he opened the door.

He was wearing new and freshly laundered clothes and expensive boots with the fancy spurs Rick had heard. The shiny tin star the man wore looked to be a bit bigger than average, and maybe a bit more elaborate, it must have been special ordered - or fake. The grin he wore was shiny and fake looking, too.

“Yep. Merle Dixon. Gonna leave 'em with you. Just need a receipt to take to the feds to get my bounty.” Rick said as he gestured to the man on his pack horse.

“Ain't no problem. We'll get him settled in and write that out. Then we can head over to Carol's and get you a celebratory whiskey.” More with that fake smile.

“No need for all that. Just need my paper and I'll be on my way.” Rick put on his best ‘gotta go’ look in hopes of getting the hell out of there. 

“Hey, sheriff! My ass is numb and I missed my beauty sleep 'cause of this here jackass, so how's about we move this along?” Dixon hollered from his perch.

Rick wasn't sure, but it sounded like Dixon was trying to help him get away from the sheriff. Probably just his imagination.

“That's Sheriff Walsh to you, and you'd best be keeping your trap shut if you wanna make it to the federal pen in one piece.”  The peace officer had walked over to Nick's head as he spoke, all swagger and bluster.

Rick added 'Bully' to the list of character flaws he'd seen. Hell, the sheriff might have been a good man at one point, and Rick may have even been his friend, but his time as king of this little town had warped his sense of duty. Rick would definitely be leaving at first light.

They got Dixon in without too much fuss, Rick was pretty sure Walsh had let Dixon fall out of the saddle when he'd lost his balance, but Dixon was a tough old son of a bitch and didn't let it faze him, just stumbled hard into the sheriff when they helped him to his feet. 

Walsh produced the form Rick would need, but held it back, “You sure I can’t tempt you to Carol’s for a few rounds? I’ll buy.”

Rick was pretty sure Lori'd have a fit if she knew he'd spent the night in a saloon, so he refused to be swayed, “Nah, I’m plumb wore out from chasing this hardened criminal here all over god’s country. Been looking forward to hitting the hay.”

“Carol’d set you up with a pretty young thing to keep you company for the night. And hell, I’d pay for that too.” Walsh still hadn’t signed the paper, holding it captive until Rick agreed to go.

“Sheriff, I am much obliged. But I made a promise to my wife and I ain’t about to break a promise to her.”

“Ah, you’re whipped then.” Shane flashed his big fake grin again, looking to the man in the cage for some kind of male camaraderie.

“Sheriff, you done run into an honest bounty hunter. He ain’t gonna go back on his word. Found that out the hard way.” Dixon said with a laugh.

Yeah, Dixon was definitely trying to help Rick out, “Sheriff, just let me get my paper and I’ll be on my way.”

Walsh could tell he was defeated, so he signed the papers with ill grace and shoved it at Rick.

“Thank you kindly,” Rick said with a tip of his hat.  

He turned to look at Dixon before he left. All in all hauling him in had been a pretty smooth job, until they got here. But no one had gotten hurt and they were leaving on good terms.

“Hey, Grimes! Don't forget our deal!” he’d shouted from the lockup.

“Done told you Dixon, ain't interested in that money,” Rick said as he shook his head.

“Nah, I know. But you go look for my baby brother!”

Rick walked up to the bars that Dixon was draped against, his arms sticking out between them, “I promise you, I will ask about your brother. If there is something to it, I will look. But I ain't chasing after ghosts.”

“That's good enough for me,” Dixon said as he stuck out his hand to Rick.

Rick took the hand and shook it twice, a promise made. He had his doubts that he would even get past the asking stage. The chances of Dixon’s baby brother being alive were pretty slim.  Even if the man swore there’d been an eye witness. Rick figured all he’d promised was that he would ask.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick makes it home and Lori has a surprise for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Lori bashing in this fic. Rick loves his wife. 
> 
> Thanks again to the lovely [Michelle_A_Emerlind](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Michelle_A_Emerlind/pseuds/Michelle_A_Emerlind) for her beta work.

“Dad!”

Carl came bounding out of the house like a whirlwind, his hat flying off his head. Rick bent to one knee and caught his son in a tight hug. He'd missed this kid. His boy was just growing out of his baby fat at eight years old, and how Lori could want to send him away at such a tender age was beyond Rick.  

He looked over his son's shoulder to see his wife standing in the door of their modest home. She and Rick had built it themselves and it was the source of unending pride for the two of them. Well, the house and their son.

He'd been gone nearly two months this time, leaving right after the corn had taken root. His plan had been to make it back sooner to get the winter wheat in before it go too hot, but Dixon had been a slippery one. So now it was the beginning of July and he was just in time to harvest the wheat. Although, knowing his beautiful wife, she had a long list of chores for him on top of that.

“Lori,” he said in greeting.

She tilted her head and smiled at him, “Rick.”

And then she was in his arms, a ray of sunshine and light right next to his heart. He always forgot how much he missed her when he left. The homecomings were sweeter every time. He hated leaving, but they'd needed the money and he was a good tracker and not afraid to use his gun.

“Rick?” she asked.

“Yeah sweetheart?” Rick smiled down at his wife.

She ran her fingers lightly over the beard that had grown in while he was on the trail, “I have something to tell you.”

He hoped it was that she was sending Carl down to the creek for rocks, because her being in his arms right now was really causing a commotion in his pants.

Instead, she took one of his hands that was held tight against her back and pushed it around front, low on her belly.

“What?” he asked in disbelief.

“We're going to have a baby.” Her eyes shone with her joy.

“When? How did this happen?”

“I think you know how it happened Rick, and I guess it happened that one night it was storming,” she said with a small smile.

Rick smiled himself at the memory. The early spring storm had woken them all up and Rick had gone out to secure the horses and the rest of the livestock while Lori had made sure the house was secure and Carl was okay. The storm was over quickly, but they'd both had too much adrenaline to get back to sleep, so they'd made love to burn some of it up. It had shocked Rick at the time, Lori only very rarely allowed sex outside of the schedule that she’d made up and that Rick had never understood. But then, she was very regimented in all things she did. 

“When are you due?”

“Christmas?” Lori said after a few moments of thought.

“A Christmas baby, now don't that beat all,” Rick said as he lowered his face to his wife's for a long passionate kiss.

“Eww!”

“Carl, you go on in the house and get washed up for dinner. Your daddy's probably starved to death eating on the trail these last few months!” Lori said as she took Rick's hand and lead him to the door.

“Didn’t know you’d be home today so it’s just biscuits and beans with ham,” she told him as they walked into the kitchen.

“S’all right. Better’n the hard tack and game I’ve been eatin’.” Rick would never tell his wife that her cooking was anything less than delicious, even if it wasn’t.  He just hoped the ham was cooked through.

“So, what have I missed?” he asked her as he washed up in the basin by the door.

“Well, Mr. Eastman (the man who makes cheese?), was killed in one of his fields. Trampled by his own horses.” Lori paused and looked out the window for a moment. 

“And that old trader, Hershel Greene, got kicked in the leg by a pack horse while he was out on the trail. His leg was broke so bad he ended up cutting it off all by himself!”

Rick chuckled, “He’s a tough S.O.B.”

“Rick! Watch the language, you’re not on the trail any longer.” Lori chided him.

Rick smiled and nodded his head. He really ought to watch his mouth around the family. Carl could pick up on that language and then Rick would never hear the end of it from Lori.

She set three bowls of beans and ham on the table as Carl slid into his seat. Rick waited until everyone was settled and then said grace. He kept it short, he only said it to appease Lori, she went to church every Sunday after all. 

“You know, that con I brought in, Merle Dixon, he was going on about his baby brother being stolen by the Cheyenne and I should talk to Mr. Greene about it.” Rick said between bites of only slightly burned beans.

“What would Mr. Greene know about it?” Lori said after she finished her bite and wiped her mouth delicately.

“Well, Dixon says that Mr. Greene told him he’d seen his baby brother up with the northern tribe.  Not sure when he was seen or when Dixon talked to him, but I told him I would ask.”  Rick was sopping up the last of the juice in his bowl with his rather dry biscuit. 

“Rick, you have to talk to Mr. Greene,” Lori said adamantly.

“I will. I promised I would and I will.”

“If there’s anything to it, you have to go after that baby. You can’t leave him to be raised by heathens.” Lori looked over to Carl, “Can you imagine if they took Carl? Or the baby?”

“Lori, we’re safe here. Hasn’t been an Indian raid in over twenty years.” Rick would have never left them on their own if he thought they would be at risk. 

“I know that, but just think what that poor mother went through.”  Lori reached over and ruffled Carl’s hair.

“Ma!” Carl jerked away from his mother’s hand, he was just getting to the age where a mother’s affection was a curse instead of a gift. He was finished with his dinner, so he got up and put his bowl on the counter next to Lori’s wash bucket.

“You go on and make sure the chickens are all in the coop and check the water for the pigs,” Lori told him with a swat on his behind to get him going.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“What?” Lori asked when she noticed the way Rick was looking at her with a twinkle in his eye.

“Missed this. Missed you.” Rick reached out a hand to trail in her hair. He liked it down, so she indulged him when they were home.

She leaned into him and they shared a deep kiss. Rick sure hoped Carl would be tuckered out tonight after his chores were done. 

“Rick?”

“Hmm?”

“Promise me you’ll look for that boy if Mr. Greene really did see him?” She was holding his head in her hands, staring him in the eye.

“Lori, the kid’s probably dead. Dixon told me his parents were killed in the raid that took the boy.  I can’t imagine he’s not long gone too.”  

“But if there’s a chance?”

Rick let out a long sigh, “Yeah, if Mr. Greene can tell me where he saw this boy, I’ll go look for him. I promise.”

***

It was nice being home, even if Lori kept him busy from sun up to sun down. After the wheat harvest there were fences to be mended, plows to sharpen, roofs to fix, that sort of thing. How so much work could pile up in just a few months of absence was beyond his ken.

He tried to help her as much as possible, too. She'd had a hard time with Carl and he wanted her to be as rested as possible for the birth of this baby. Of course she insisted she was just fine, wanting to milk the cows and feed the chickens. Rick had learned to let her have her head when she was all riled up, and it didn't take much in her current condition.

So she did her chores everyday. Rick and Carl scurried around her to do as much as they could, Rick's sense of chivalry chaffing every time she broke a sweat, but she was determined to do her share of the work. That was one of the reasons he loved her, she was a hard worker and did what needed to be done.

Rick hired a couple of guys from town when it was time to bring the corn harvest in. Lori had gotten big enough that her body just wouldn't let her do as much as she wanted, so she made sure the men had plenty to eat and drink as they worked. It was a good harvest and Rick was able to put up enough for his little family and send some off with his hired help. He got a good price for what he took to town to sell. He took a yearling calf as well, its mother finally weaned the thing.

He was just coming out of the bank, adjusting his duster coat and putting on his hat, when he heard a familiar voice behind him, “Well, I'll be. Rick Grimes.”

“Hey there, Mr. Greene!” Rick smiled and held out his hand to the old trapper.

“Now, Rick, I done told ya to call me Hershel,” he said as he adjusted his weight on his crutches. 

“Yeah, I know. But Lori'd have my hide if she thought I was showing any disrespect.” Rick spied a bench with the sun shining on it and indicated for Hershel to sit.

“P'shaw. How's your lovely wife doing these days?” Hershel said as he clapped a hand on Rick's shoulder.

“She's expectin'.” Rick's smile broke out with pride even though he was trying to be humble.

“Well! Congratulations son! When's she due?” Hershel eased down on the bench.

“Christmas,” Rick said as he followed him down.

“Well, you'll have your very own Christmas miracle then. I'll pray for you both.” Hershel smiled at Rick.

“Lori told me about your accident, how are you holdin’ up?” Rick indicated Hershel’s amputated leg.

“Wasn’t an accident! That darn horse was a foul beast! Sold it for glue as soon as I got back to town,” Hershel laughed along with Rick before rubbing his leg above the knot in his pants. “I get around okay, but it aches a bit at night. Had to give up my trading route.” 

Rick paused for a moment, there was something about Hershel’s trading route that he needed to remember. And then it came to him, “Have you ever spoken to a Merle Dixon?”

Hershel's face took on an introspective look, “Yes. I tried to minister to him a while back. Right after he robbed that train. He didn't care too much about the good lord, just finding his baby brother.”

“Well, I caught up to him a few months back and turned him in for a bounty. He talked a lot, but mostly said you'd seen his baby brother with the Cheyenne.”

“I did indeed. They call him Squirrel or Short Arrow, but his name is Daryl. He stayed pretty far from me, I guess he was afraid I'd take him back. He's been with them long enough that he doesn't want to come back to the white world.”

“Well, I told Dixon I would ask you about him. He said he'd tell me where he hid the money if I brought him back. I'd turn it in of course.” Rick told his friend.

Hershel smiled benevolently, “I know you would, Rick.”

“Mostly asking ‘cause Lori can’t hardly sleep at night worrying about the kid. Can you tell me what he looks like?” Rick asked.

“Sure Rick, he's got a mole right above his left lip and longish dark blond hair and...” Hershel paused as they heard a horse galloping hard down the street towards them.

“Dad! Dad! Come quick! Ma needs ya!” Carl called from atop his little mare, Sophia.

“I'll come too, I can help if there's a problem with the baby.” Hershel offered.

Rick wasn't about to refuse the man, Hershel had been a vet at one time and knew more about medicine than Rick did. Although he prayed the whole way home that it was something else entirely that had sent Carl to him in such haste.

It turned out that Lori had fainted and Carl had panicked. She was awake and searching for Carl when the three came galloping into the homestead. She had harsh words for Carl, but Rick felt like the boy had done right by his ma.

“Now Lori, he didn't know no better and you could have had something really bad going on,” Rick chided her.

“There's a reason ya fainted Mrs. Grimes. You best lay down and rest a bit,” Hershel advised.

“I am fine. And I don't need two overbearin' men telling me how to take care of myself,” she bristled. “This ain’t my first baby. And the midwife said she’d be out next week to check on me.”

“Lori,” Rick's voice was firm.

Lori threw up her hands in defeat and walked to their bedroom in a huff. Rick wouldn't say she waddled, because if he even thought that he would be sleeping with his horse tonight. No, she definitely walked with grace.

“Hershel, thank you kindly for coming all this way to see about the Mrs. Can you stay for dinner?”

“That's mighty kind of ya Rick. I'd love to, but I don't want your wife to have to make a fuss for me.” Hersel declined.

“Nah, I can make us some grub, no trouble at all.” Rick said with a smile.

“Dad's cookin'? Ye haw!” Carl exclaimed.

“Carl!”

“Even ma says you cook some stuff better'n her.”

Rick couldn't argue with that. Lori tried, but she just never got the knack. Maybe she didn't have patience enough for it or figured out time and temperature, because nearly everything was either burnt or raw or both.

Hershel stayed for dinner (biscuits and stew) and then the night. He ended up staying over a month, worried about Lori and the baby, said Lori looked too pale and peaked for his liking. He only left for services on Sunday and to do business in town.

Rick was happy to have the steadiness of the older man there. Hershel not only calmed his fears, but he helped around the homestead, doing as much of Rick’s chores as he could with a bum leg. That let Rick pick up more of Lori’s chores, cooking, washing up, and doing the laundry mostly.

Lori spent more and more time in bed, the pregnancy exhausting her. The midwife had been by like Lori had said and had told Lori to rest as much as possible.  Rick had been forced to make her eat on several occasions, she being too weary to try. He didn't remember her being this worn down when she was expecting Carl.

No one was really sure why this baby took so much out of Lori, but everyone worked hard to keep her comfortable. Carl did his cyphering and his reading laying in the bed next to her, snuggling close when the cold wind blew hard outside.  Rick would rub her feet when they would swell and her back when it ached. He worried, as all men do, but the steady presence of Hershel and Carl’s chipper attitude helped to keep the homestead happy during the wait for the new arrival.    
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone that has bookmarked, kudo'd, commented, or just read. Next chapter we get into some angst. I bet you can guess.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, I think you all know what's going to happen this chapter. If you could handle the birth during the show, you'll be ok here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, as always, to the lovely [Michelle_A_Emerlind](%E2%80%9D) .

Fall turned cold after the first of November, and the snows came early. The men worked hard to keep the fires going during one of the bitterest winters Rick could ever remember. There weren't many trees in Kansas, so they had to burn cow chips and cornstalks that Rick had been putting up since he got back. There was an almost continual flow to keep it warm enough for all of them, but most especially Lori.

She went into labor one snowy night, at least three weeks early. She probably had been for hours before telling Rick, not wanting to alarm him most likely. Her gasp of pain finally gave her away and woke Rick.

“Lori?”

“It's okay Rick, it'll be hours yet,” Lori told him softly.

But it was too late, Rick was wide awake, determined to help her deliver their baby safely. The midwife was supposed to be coming next week to stay until the baby was born. Rick had cleaned out the space above the kitchen for Carl so the midwife could have his room. But there was no way that Rick could get her here before the baby. There was at least four feet of snow and the more coming by the hour.  

“I'll get Hershel,” he said as he jumped out of bed.

“Don't wake up Carl!” Lori stage whispered to him.

Hershel was easy to rouse and quickly jumped into action, washing his hands and collecting extra linens and having Rick boil water in anticipation of the delivery. He also had his vet kit stowed under their bed, Rick praying to god he wouldn't need anything from it. Some of the tools looked pretty wicked.

The old trader asked Lori a bunch of questions, mostly how long she thought she'd been in labor and how far apart her contractions were. She seemed to be bearing the pain well for the time being, so Rick lit the candles in the bedroom and stoked the fire. Hershel sent him out of the room a few times so he could check Lori’s progression.

Things seemed to be going well for the most part, Lori joking with Hershel about getting him out of bed for nothing and Rick kept busy with the fire and making sure Hershel had everything he needed. Dawn blazed soon enough and Carl woke up, excited to meet a new baby brother or sister.

Rick had asked Hershel about the baby coming early, but Hershel assured him that Lori probably just had her timing off. It wasn't an exact science he'd said. So then Rick had only the normal things to worry about, like if Lori would live through it.

Her screams started around mid-morning, the contractions causing her stomach to tighten into a hard ball of pain. Rick had sent Carl to the barn to clean stalls, hoping her cries wouldn't carry. They were tearing through Rick like a knife, knowing he'd done this to her.

He’d been there for Carl’s birth, in the next room while the midwife took care of Lori. There had been screams then too, but just a few at the end. The midwife had assured him during an earlier checkup it was perfectly natural and not to be alarmed. But Rick had paced relentlessly anyway, worried about Lori and baby Carl. Worried if he would be a good dad. Wondered if he could provide for a wife and child. 

This time when Lori was expecting there wasn’t that worry. Rick provided just fine for his family, their little homestead turning a modest profit. And since Lori had done just fine with the birth of Carl and jumped back into helping Rick take care of their home in just about a month, there didn’t seem to be a reason to be concerned now with this new baby. Lori was older now, wiser, healthier. 

But none of that was happening now. Not with Lori having to take to her bed much sooner. Not with the baby coming so much sooner. And how long it was taking. When Carl was born it had felt like ages between the time that Lori had asked for the midwife and when Rick held the crying baby in his arms, but it had been less than eight hours from start to finish.

Now they were up to hour ten by Rick’s reckoning and still not a hint of a baby. Lori’s screams sounded more feral, more desperate from the pain. She hadn’t wanted him to let her go after he had come back from sending Carl to the barn, clinging to him as though she were drowning. 

Poor Hershel had to calm both Rick and Lori at certain points, but Rick managed to get himself under control when Hershel reminded him he wasn't helping Lori by being hysterical. So he held her hand and wiped her brow and was there for her as much as he could be.

Hershel seemed calm as could be until Lori's screaming stopped abruptly and turned to whimpers, her eyes rolling back in her head. She'd been in the middle of a push, Rick had lost count, and just fell backwards.

“Rick! Wake her up, she has to be awake to push this baby out and we're halfway through the baby crowning.”

Rick jostled her a bit and when that didn't work, he pinched her arm. She finally came to when he pinched the inside of her arm above her elbow. She looked so awful it broke Rick's heart. Her eyes were sunken in and had blood in them from how hard she'd been pushing. 

“Come on darlin’, need you to wake up and have this baby. Carl’s excited to meet his new baby brother or sister,” Rick coaxed her. 

“Where's Carl?” she asked.

“He's fine. Out tending the horses,” Rick told her.

“Bring him here, I want to see him.” Her voice was barely a whisper, lost from her screams. 

“Lori, he don't need to see this,” Hershel told her.

“No, I need to see him. Please Rick.” Her words trembled with her fatigue. 

“Lori, you're fine. We're just to the rough spot, baby's crowning. Give me a couple more pushes and we'll be done.” Hershel's voice was calm, but Rick could see he'd pulled out his vet kit and was searching around in it.

“No, something's wrong. I kno...” she trailed off in another scream that tore through Rick like a steam engine. He was horrified to see a rush of blood soak the front of Hershel's shirt and drip down the bottom of the bed.

“Rick, go get Carl,” Hershel said in a solemn voice above Lori's screams.

Rick looked at Hershel, stunned. Hershel was pulling out a wicked looking steel instrument that Rick hadn’t seen the like of since his time in the Army. 

“Go on now, I'll try and make her presentable for him while you're gone.” 

Rick nodded his head numbly and looked to his wife of fifteen years. Her hair was matted with sweat, despite the nearly frigid room, her eyes bloodshot and haggard, her skin pale and waxy. He squeezed her hand and kissed her atop her head before getting up to go after Carl.

Carl's face was grave when Rick got to him in the barn, he must have heard her screams, and then seeing the look of terrible resignation on Rick's face must have told the rest of the tale. His son nodded his head bravely and followed Rick into the house with firm steps through the heavy snow.

Hershel had been true to his words and had cleaned up as best as he could in the few minutes Rick had been gone to fetch his son. Lori’s sheets had been changed and her face washed off. Hershel had even managed to take off his own blood soaked shirt and traded it for a clean one. 

“Carl?” Lori was crying weakly when they got to the bedroom.

“I'm here, ma.” Carl choked out. 

“Rick?”

“I’m here.” 

“Rick, promise me, you take care of this baby no matter what. Don’t go blaming them for my weakness.”

“Lori...”

“Shh, Rick. Just promise me.” She didn’t seem to be in pain any longer. Just a dreamy state of half awareness. No doubt Hershel had given her something for the pain as well while Rick had been gone.

“I promise.” What else could he do? 

“Carl, give me your hand,” she demanded. Holding his hand in a firm grasp she said, “Help your pa. Help him take care of this baby. Help him take care of our home. And you protect this baby, don't let me down now. Ya hear?”

“Yeah, ma, I hear ya.” Tears were streaming down Carl's face, Rick couldn't blame him. His own eyes were red rimmed from the tears he cried.

With the last of her strength, she pulled Carl to her in a fierce hug.  Carl held his mother tightly, sobbing into her shoulder.  Her eyes fluttered shut as she kissed him one more time before collapsing completely, her arm falling from Carl's embrace.

“MA!” Carl sobbed as Rick cried out for his wife.

“No!” Rick wouldn’t believe it. He shook her and cried out her name. It was no use. Her body remained lifeless.  

She was gone. The light in his sky was blacked out, the song in his heart was silenced, the laughter in soul was extinguished. The mother of his child....

“Rick, we need to get this baby out of her or she’ll have died in vain,” Hershel's firm voice cut through his heartbreak.

No, he didn't want Lori to have died in vain, “What do you need me to do?”

“I need you to help me get this baby out, and we need to work fast or we'll lose it too. Carl, you stay up there by your ma.”

It was gruesome, but they managed to save the baby, a girl. She was eerily quiet as Hershel pulled her from Lori's rapidly cooling body. Rick feared they were too late, but Hershel held the baby aloft by her feet and gave a hard smack to her rear causing the her to cry out.

Rick was happy to hear her thin cries, bittersweet though they were. Carl had looked up when he heard, his eyes streaked in tears. How heavy a burden for his son, to have to help watch over the cause of his mother’s demise. 

“We're gonna have to get her some milk as soon as we can, but first we'll see if Lori's got anything left for her baby,” Hershel said.

Rick wasn't sure what the old man was talking about, but soon understood when Hershel took the baby to Lori's breast and helped her suckle. Of course, he'd seen this with new foals that had had their mothers die. The first milk would help the baby grow strong and healthy.

“Can...can I?” Carl asked tentatively.

Hershel nodded his head and helped Carl hold the baby to his mother. There was no malice, no anger in the boy. There were tears for his mother, sure, but no outrage or bitterness toward his new baby sister. Carl would do his best to honor his mother’s wishes and take care of this baby.  

Rick only indulged in a moment of melancholy scene before him, searing the image of Lori nursing their baby in his mind's eye before turning to go to the barn in search of milk. There was a cow that had a calf and produced more than enough milk.

He made it into the barn before collapsing, the weight of her death and his guilt too heavy a burden to bear. His cries echoed around the barn as he rolled around in agony. How would he go on? Where would he get the strength to take care of the homestead, of Carl, of this new baby, without her? How could he even live while she did not?

All too soon his grief turned to anger. Anger at himself, at Hershel, at god, at a world where the act of giving birth was akin to running in front of a firing squad. He would not let his anger flow to his children, no matter how blinded by it he was.

He lept to his feet and paced around the barn. His tears turned to howls of rage. He pulled his hair, beat his thigh with his closed fist, kicked a stall door. The horses snorted in fear, the cow’s eyes showed their whites from it.

Rick ignored them. What did he care what a few barn animals felt? His only thoughts were of his wife, the love of his life. The one person he could never, would never, replace.

She wasn’t coming back. Ever. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone ok? Anyone need a tissue? 
> 
> This fic wouldn't be possible without the continued support of the Rickyl Writer's Group. Thank you to everyone there for all your encouragement.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life goes on after Lori's death and Rick has a decision to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone that has encouraged me through writing this fic. There were many days I wanted to throw my hands up and throw in the towel.

They couldn't bury Lori right away, the ground was too frozen, so Rick built a cairn for her until they could lay her to rest. They'd shivered through a small service that Hershel had officiated.

They named the girl Judith in honor of Carl's teacher. Neither he nor Rick could bear to call her Lori. The pain in their hearts still a raw wound that ached more than Rick had ever imagined.

She was a good baby, only cried when she was hungry or needed changed. When she was awake, her eyes were as blue and wide as the prairie sky, taking in everything around her.

Carl was true to his word to his mother and took great care of his sister, helping to feed and bathe her and rock her to sleep.  He never strayed far from her and was usually the first to jump up if she even whimpered. 

Rick was...numb. He wouldn’t let his grief and anger overwhelm him so he threw himself into the chores, completely taking over Lori's as well as some of Carl's while still doing his own. If he kept busy then his mind was occupied and he wouldn't see his wife in death's pale embrace. It was the hardest winter of his life, cold and empty without her.

He didn’t sleep for three nights after her death. The bed they had shared seemed to hold the screams from her death, waiting for him to close his eyes before roaring into existence. Hershel had cleaned the bed and changed the sheets, but her smell still lingered to taunt Rick. Hershel had offered up his bed and Rick took it, finally able to sleep for most of a night. The next day they had burned the mattress that Rick couldn’t sleep on and made a new one from straw and ticking. 

Sometimes he thought he saw her in the distance. The dress she wore for their wedding blowing in the harsh winds of winter. Other times he could hear her voice, whispering in his ear, the words too soft for him to understand. It was maddening, she was just a breath away, and he could never catch her. 

Hershel offered to stay until spring to help with Judith and the chores. He'd had two baby girls of his own and had lost his first wife in childbirth as well, so he knew just what Rick needed. A steady presence, an encyclopedic knowledge of newborns and another hand to help keep the homestead from freezing over.

Besides taking care of a motherless newborn, they had to keep the fire going.  And without a lot of trees to cut,  burned corn stalks and cow patties did the job.  Not the most hygienic fuel, but it was all they had. They burned hot and fast though, so they were constantly feeding the fire and washing their hands.

Christmas had been merely another day in an otherwise harsh winter. Hershel had had to remind him to get some sort of gifts for the children. So he made a corncob doll for Judith and dug out their wedding picture to give to Carl so that he would remember what his mama looked like. Lori had disliked the picture and so she had put it behind the bed, Rick had thought she'd looked as beautiful as a sunrise after a storm.

Judith grew, as babies do, mostly with the help of the bottles that Hershel had found in town and a cow that produced more than enough milk. She was a thing of beauty, with her curious blue eyes and bright red hair that curled up just so at the ends. No, Lori hadn't died in vain, this girl was a marvel.

When the first signs of spring appeared, Rick and Carl found a good place to bury Lori properly. They still had to use pickaxes and it took the better part of two days, but they had a grave dug at the rise behind the house. Rick thought it fitting that she would be able to look upon the little family they had.

Hershel had gone into town one Sunday for church (he still gave Rick five kinds of hell for not going and taking Carl, but Rick was still angry with god for taking Lori from him), and come back with supplies and a letter addressed to Rick.

_ To Rick Grimes _

_ Dont you foget about yer promse to find my baby brother! You find that old coot Hershl Green and make him tell ya where he is! The judg said youd get a reward if ya brote the money back! Im lockd up in the pen doin 15 to 20 so I aint goin nowere. _

_ From Merle Dixon _

Damn, he had forgotten about his promise. He would never fall back on a promise to Lori, but he didn't know how he could do it now, not with Judith and no one to stay at the homestead for the months it would take to track the kid down.

He'd thought Merle's brother was still a baby by the way he talked, but Hershel had said the kid had stayed away on purpose, so Rick figured he might actually be closer to Carl's age than Judith's. Hell, he could very well be too wild to bring back to civilization. Especially if he'd been with the Cheyenne for any length of time.

He'd talk to Hershel and see what he thought about the matter.

***

“Rick, to be honest, I'm not happy about giving up my route. Some of those folks depend on me, trust me. But there is no way I can go out there missing half a leg. I was thinking of writing my daughter, Maggie, and see if she and her husband Glenn wouldn't mind putting me up for the summer,” Hershel told him.

Rick wasn't sure what that had to do with him looking for the Dixon boy, but he let Hershel say his piece.

“But now I'm thinking maybe you could do it and I could stay here with your boy and your girl. My younger daughter, Beth, just finished her schooling back east and is due back here in just a few weeks. She could get Carl caught up on his schooling real easy.”

Carl hadn’t gone back to school after Christmas. There had been just too much to do between taking care of Judith and doing his chores. And Rick would hate to admit it, but some days he had been useless, just sitting in the barn with Walker, talking to Lori.

“So you want me to leave my children here with you so that I can run off on a fool’s errand?” They were cleaning a hog, getting ready to break it down for hams, bacon, and the rest of the meats. This one hadn’t had a litter in two years and couldn’t be allowed to eat for free any longer.

“Rick, you'd be doing me a favor. You'd keep my trade going so I can rest up this summer and visit with my daughter. And frankly, I think you need some time away from here to get your head on straight.”

Rick tilted his head down and looked to where his boot was slowly sinking in the mud by the barn, “I'll think on it.”  He doubted very much that Hershel would ever go back out trading, but he wouldn’t tell the man that. Even though Hershel got around on the crutches, it was still rough going on the really wet days. The man had taken more than one tumble.            

Carl was none too pleased to learn he’d be getting his own private teacher. He rather liked not having to go to school, even if he did miss his friends. Rick felt a bit guilty about it, Lori’d have his hide for letting the boy miss school. But Hershel’s daughter would get Carl back to where he ought to be. 

Two weeks later, after the wheat was planted, Rick hitched up the wagon so Hershel and Carl could go into to town to get Beth, Rick staying behind with Judith. He rigged up a basket for her to sit in while he did his chores. He was just putting a chicken in the stove when he heard the wagon come up the dirt road.

Beth was a pretty little thing, with large blue eyes and bright yellow hair pulled back tight. Her pale skin confirmed her time back east. She spoke with a soft lilt that reminded Rick of kittens and baby goats. Carl was clearly smitten.

“Mr. Grimes,” she greeted him politely.

“None of that now, you can call me Rick like your pa does.” Rick took her hand to help her out of the carriage, Carl crinkling his nose up at his pa.

She smiled shyly, “Alright, Rick.”

“Come on, Beth,” Carl was hopping from one foot to the other, hankering to show Beth their home.

Rick pulled the girl’s trunk off the back of the wagon as Carl drug her to the house. He’d been cleaning and cooking all day, hoping to do Lori proud.  She’d always loved entertaining and would invent reasons for them to have company. Her friends from church mostly. Not that any of them had been by since her death. Oh, her friend Dawn Lerner had come by, but Rick suspected she had an ulterior motive and had run her on home as fast as he could, he wasn’t looking to replace Lori anytime soon. 

They got Beth settled in Carl's room and moved him up to the loft above the kitchen. Carl then showed her around the homestead, wandering as far as the creek before taking Beth up to Lori’s grave so she could show her respects.  

Rick made dinner that night, Beth assuring him that she would be taking over kitchen duties the next morning. Carl held Judith in his lap and as she stared at the strange creature that had invaded her home. Hershel and Beth regaled the Grimes family with stories of their own family. It was probably the first time since Lori died that Rick laughed out loud.

Beth’s soft voice belied her sturdiness. She was a fair cook and a wonder with Judith, singing to her throughout the day. The baby took to Beth like she was her mama. Rick tried not to let that hurt too much. 

She worked as hard as the men, taking over Lori’s chores effortlessly as well as teaching Carl what he’d missed over the winter while taking care of Judith. Rick missed his baby after just a few days, though. He tried sneaking time with her when he could, but Beth would shoo him outdoors, telling him not to worry about taking care of the baby. 

The night Beth unceremoniously pulled Judith from Rick’s arms when he was putting the baby in her bath, Hershel had had enough, “We took care of that baby just fine for five months Beth, I think Rick can handle giving her a bath if he wants to.”      

Rick wasn’t sure what to make of the cow-eyes Beth made at that. She looked so broken hearted and it seemed as though she looked at Rick for support, but he just couldn’t give it.  Beth spent the rest of the night in her room, writing in her journal. Things were a bit strained after that.  

Rick tried to keep busy enough so he didn’t have to talk with her too much.  He wasn’t comfortable being alone with her, even if they had baby Judith with them.  After she’d been there a week or so, she’d made mention of updating some of the wallpaper and it just sounded too much like she was planning on making it a home for them as man and wife, and Rick was not in that frame of mind at all. 

She’d started wearing her bright hair in a braid over her shoulder, twirling the ends whenever she could corner Rick. Her dresses were a lot lighter as well, not enough to cause a scandal, but Rick wasn’t sure it was hot enough for her to unbutton two buttons on the top of her dress. She hiked up the side of her skirt on occasion too, and if Rick wasn’t careful, he’d catch a glimpse of leg. Carl didn’t seem to mind, he was all mooney over the girl.  

So he shouldn’t have been surprised that his son was so willing for him to leave.

He and Carl were out walking the fences one sunny day, checking for any winter damage, when Carl gave him a pensive look.

“What is it son?” Rick looked at his son as he rewrapped a piece of barbed wire around a post.

Carl held his eye for a moment before saying, “I think you should go.” 

“Go where?” 

“After that kid, or Hershel's trading route, or whatever it is that you need to do.”

“How do ya know about that?” 

“You talked to ma about it when ya got home.  And I heard ya talkin’ to Hershel about it the other day,”  Carl confessed. “But I wanted you to know, I’m ok with it. I think it’s the right thing to do.”

Rick ducked his head to look Carl in the eye, “No, I ain't leaving you and your sister.”

“We'll be fine with Hershel and Beth, you know that. 'Sides you made a promise.” Carl met Rick's gaze with a steady look of his own.

“To a train robber and a con. I don't think it's necessary to leave ya'll for that.”

“Yeah, and to ma. She’d want you to. Think about that other kid. Maybe he wants to come home, but can't. You’d come after me, right?”

Rick looked away to the west. When did his boy get so grown up?  He wasn’t even ten years old yet, just celebrated his ninth a week before. But Carl was right, that Dixon boy was out there somewhere. Was he waiting for a rescue? Or would he be happy to live out his days with the Cheyenne? 

“I told Hershel I'd think on it, and that's what I'll tell you too.”

But Rick knew Carl was right.  He might be between hay and grass, but Carl had a point.  He had promised Lori and he had yet to go back on a promise to his wife. Her death shouldn’t change that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to reiterate that this is a historical fic. Attitudes were way different about a great many things in the 1880s than they are now. I have tried to take out as much of the inflammatory language as possible, but I think pretending everything was perfect does a disservice to all of the hard work done during the last 150 years for civil rights. 
> 
> And also, I spent many a night researching for this fic, I in no way want to offend anyone, so if you have concerns, please contact me on Tumblr.


	5. Chapter 5

That night after dinner, as Rick gave Judith her bath, he brought up taking over the route to Hershel.

“What would I need to do to take over your route?”

Hershel seemed startled for a moment, but quickly recovered, “You needed to have left three weeks ago.”

Rick paused in washing Judith’s hair to turn to look at his friend, “Is it too late?”

“Nah, but you’ll have to skip some folks if ya want to make it up to Cheyenne country before it gets too hot,”  Hershel said.

“I need to be back here in time to harvest the spring wheat. If I leave at the end of the week, will I still have enough time?” 

Hershel smiled, “I think so, ‘specially since I’ll be helpin’ ya.”  

They spent a week going over Hershel’s old route on a map, Hershel making notes in the margins about what Rick would expect at each stop and what places to avoid. Rick wasn’t a total novice to a trading route. He’d worked a short one before becoming a scout, nothing like Hershel’s though. It was mostly visiting lonely homesteads and trading housewares and fabric for rags and cowhides. It’s how he’d met Lori. She was the daughter of a homesteader. 

“Now, I used to stop here in Alexandria, but the sheriff is a bit of a blowhard and wants free merchandise. I skip it and go over to Hilltop. The mayor there is a bit of a flannel mouth, but he’s fair if you keep your head.” Hershel was pointing out the towns as he spoke.

“The trains meet up here at a terminus, I can’t remember the name of the little town there, but the folks were nice enough the last time I was through.”

Rick nodded his head. He’d already met up with the sheriff from Alexandria, and planned on avoiding the town at any rate because the guy was such an ass. He didn’t know about Woodbury or the train terminus.

“Now there was this hard case, Joe, that used to hang out between Fort Collins and Cheyenne- the town, not the people…”

“Did he have a gang of low lifes, called themselves the Claimers?” Rick asked with a smirk.

“Now that you mention it, I believe he did.”

“I won’t have to worry about him. He and his gang were taken out last summer.” Rick wasn’t going to mention how he knew that.  

“I’ll pray for their souls,” Hershel’s voice was solemn.

Rick had no intention of praying for their souls, he’d seen them turn on one of their own and brutally murder him for some stupid infraction. They’d come upon Rick just a few hours later as he was settled down around a campfire for the night, figuring him to be a shave tail. Ol’ Joe was surprised as all get out when Rick single-handedly took out the whole group.  

Since there was a bounty on that gang as well as Dixon, Rick collected twice on the run. It was why he was able to be home for the winter with Judith and Carl. Lori’d planned on putting some of the money up for Carl’s schoolin’, but Rick didn’t have the heart to send him away now that she was gone. Good thing Beth was here now.

“When you get to Cheyenne, go see Theodore Douglas. He’s a freedman, and as honest as the day is long. He’ll do right by you. Get your knives and other metal pieces from him.”  Hershel wrote down the man’s name next to the dot on the map to mark Cheyenne.

“After Douglas, you go see Jessie Anderson. She’s got the best fabric east of the Mississippi and they hold up well in the winter.” Hershel wrote down her name as well.

“Anything else I should pick up in Cheyenne?” Rick asked.

“You can try and get some beads from Aaron, but he’s usually out himself.” That name went on the map too.

“Dale Horvath is who you want to see for tack if you’ve a mind to take it. Usually the Cheyenne make their own, but you may come across a new homestead that would be happy to have it.”  Another name on the map.

“Food?” 

“You can try Eugene Porter, but I’m not sure he’s still there. I think he’s a bit touched in the head anyway. Always talking all high falutin’ about the government. I’ve prayed for him quite a bit.”  Hershel put a question mark next to his name.

“What about the Cheyenne?”

“You’ve worked with some of the Cheyenne scouts?” Hershel asked.

“Yeah, some.” Rick answered. 

“Know any of the Cheyenne language?” Hershel asked.

“Not too much. The army insisted they all speak English. Know a bit though. Enough to not get shot on sight.”

“That’ll serve ya good then. Wouldn’t want ya ta come back with more holes than ya left with.” Hershel said with chuckle.

“Anything else?”

“The Cheyenne are good people. They are one of the few tribes that managed to get back to their traditional homes after the U.S. government tried to put them on reservations. They get along well with the white man, so as long as you don’t do anything stupid, you should be fine.” Hershel clapped a hand on the table to indicate he was done with his instructions.

“The ones I worked with scouting seemed like fair men to me. Never had any truck with ‘em.” Rick told Hershel. 

“And ya won’t as long as you carry on like ya have been.” 

Rick looked over to where where Carl was playing with Judith. He was pretending to bite her toes, making her squeal with laughter. Rick wondered if it was worth his time and the hardship on his family to go after a boy that didn’t want to be found. Carl was right though, he couldn’t go back on his promise. So he’d go on this fool’s errand and hope he made it back before the first snows.

*

Hershel got a letter the next day from his friend Otis that lived in Cheyenne. The devastating winter had hit Cheyenne hard and some of the town’s richest families had gone belly up over the loss of cattle. Some of the other businesses had suffered as well, but the trains still ran everyday full of Easterners coming to make their fortune in the west.  

Rick was worried he’d have a hard time finding trade goods, but Hershel assured him that the Cheyenne weren’t interested in cattle or beef and to stick with the plan. The folks Rick was going to see in the cattle town would be happy to sell them whatever they had. Hershel was confident Rick would get a better price since the town had been decimated because of the harsh winter.

Leaving was always a battle of wills for Rick. His desire to stay with his family fighting with his desire to provide for them. This time though, was different. He was leaving to fulfill a promise to two people that wouldn’t even know if he’d done what he said he would. But one was his wife, and he would never be able to look himself in the mirror if he didn’t. And he’d written Merle back, letting him know that he was going, but he didn’t even know if Merle would get the letter in prison. So, he was leaving on this fine day with a heavy heart.

He stood in the doorway and looked out across his property, his eyes catching on his children. Judith was on a blanket in the grass, Beth hanging laundry nearby, chewing on the corn cob doll that Rick had made her for Christmas. Carl was saddling his mare, Sophia. He was going to ride along with Rick until they got to the edge of their property. Rick was mighty proud of his children.  

The walk to the little rise behind the house to visit with Lori was a familiar one. Rick never talked to her, she wasn’t there, just a collection of bones. But it was soothing to stand there, he could feel her presence more strongly here. He ran his hand along the stone he’d placed at her head, wishing it was her.

Walker snorted behind him, always ready to go on an adventure. Rick hadn’t figured out if the horse was brave or crazy. The fool thing had actually fought a rattler once and won, stomping the snake’s head into the ground. There was no living with the thing for a week, tossing his head and snorting at Rick something awful. Rick wouldn’t trade him for the world.

With a final pat to Lori’s headstone, Rick sauntered down to his impatient horse. Carl was there too, ready to go. Beth met Rick at his horse, Judith in her arms.  

Rick smiled at his baby girl. She gurgled and reached for his beard, it was her second favorite toy after her doll. Lori had hated him in a beard, but Rick hadn’t seen the point in shaving over the winter and he still hadn’t started up again.  

“Hurry back now, Rick. We’ll all be waiting for you.” Beth looked up at him with those big blue calf eyes again.  

Rick held back his distaste. Beth clearly wanted there to be more between them, but she still looked like a little girl to Rick, despite her attempts to catch his eye. She’d only been here two weeks and already she’d managed to corner him in the barn and then again behind the house, her hand trailing up his arm, her body straining towards him. It was a good thing Carl followed her around like a little lost pup, otherwise Rick would have had to worry about his virtue. 

“Let’s go, Dad,” Carl said a bit gruffly. He was already on Sophia and more than ready to head out.

“You be kind to him while I’m gone Beth. I’ve never seen him smitten with a girl before and I won’t be here to pick up the pieces if ya break his heart.” 

Beth’s eyes bulged out in alarm as she looked first at Rick and then over to where Carl was looking at the two of them through his bangs. “I never! I mean, I had no idea,” Beth exclaimed.

“S’all right. But now ya know. Just be mindful of what ya say.”

Beth nodded her head as she held Judith a little closer to Rick. He realized she’d been so caught up making eyes at him, she hadn’t seen Carl making eyes at her. And she wasn’t but five or six years older than Carl anyway, wasn’t any wonder she’d caught the boy’s eye.

Rick kissed Judith on top of her head (avoiding touching Beth) and mounted Walker. He waved to Hershel who was standing in the doorway to the house. They’d said their goodbyes while Rick was packing up Nick with supplies that morning.

With a click of his tongue, Rick turned Walker’s head and pointed him to the road, pulling Nick’s lead. He wanted these last few moments alone with Carl to talk to him.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, but I’m hoping to be back before it gets too cold. While I’m gone you’ll be the man of the house. But that don’t mean you don’t mind Hershel and Beth.”

“Yeah, I know, Dad.” Carl was too serious for a boy that wasn’t even ten years old yet. But losing your ma at a young age made ya grow up quick. 

“And you be good to Judith. She’s gonna need you to look after her, Beth knows what she’s doing, but you’re her brother.” Rick said as he looked at his son.

“I understand, Dad. I’ll make sure Judith stays safe while you’re gone. And don’t worry, you’ll be back soon.”

They were at the end of their property now, nothing but dusty roads lay ahead of Rick. And out there somewhere was a kid that may or may not remember his brother Merle or even that he was ever part of the white world. Rick’d only promised to find the kid, not to bring him back. And if Daryl Dixon didn’t want to come back, Rick was not planning on taking on the Cheyenne nation to do it. No, he’d make the offer and that was it. 

“Dad, we’ll be fine. You have to do this. You promised ma.” Carl was giving Rick the same look that Rick had just given him. Intense and ernest.  

Rick pulled Carl to him in an awkward hug, made more difficult from the back of a horse, “Yeah, you’re right. You know, your ma sure was proud of you. And for good reason, you’re a fine young man.”

Carl nodded his head, but kept his eyes lowered, not wanting to show his pa the tears in his eyes. He’d hardly shed a tear since Lori’s death, hell, neither had Rick. There was no use crying, it wouldn’t bring her back. No matter how much he wanted it.

There were no more words to be said, so Rick gave a quick squeeze to Carl before urging Walker down the road toward Wyoming and then on to Montana to a boy that had no idea what    
awaited him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick gets his stuff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, I am so tired. But TWDObsessive will physically assault me if I don't update today.

Rick had been on the road for a week when he passed through Alexandria. The sheriff was out, thank god. Something about going after medicine in the next town over. Rick stayed at Carol’s and had a peaceful night in a bed before doing a little business the next day and then heading out again.  

He would mostly stick to the train route until he got to Cheyenne, there were more towns that way and more of a chance of sleeping in a bed rather than sleeping on the ground. It was better for Walker and Nick to bed down in a stable as well, they’d get better feed and cleaner water. But after that he’d be on the hard trail until he got to the reservation. 

The rolling hills of his home state didn’t offer much variety to look at so he found himself lost in thought more often than not. He wondered what had happened to Merle. If Rick hadn’t gotten that letter from Merle, he would have suspected the sheriff of foul play. It wasn’t unusual for a criminal to die under mysterious circumstances before they could stand trial. Rick wouldn’t be surprised if maybe his foul mouth had gotten him in trouble in prison by now. He would have to swing by the prison eventually, either to tell Merle he couldn’t find his brother or to bring the boy around so that he could see his brother. 

He thought how much Lori would have loved to go to Cheyenne, she’d always loved big cities. Rick hated them, hated the bustle and the dirt. All the dudes in their fancy clothes and women that wouldn’t know a hard day’s work for nothin’. But she’d always loved the excitement and the shopping, the buildings and the parks.They’d always talked about going to St. Louis, but had never made it. Something always came up or Rick had to leave unexpectedly. Not a new story, his regrets, he was sure there were other men who’d lost their wives that felt heartbroken over all the things they never gave them.

Carl and Judith were on his mind as well. They were in good hands with the Greenes, but he knew he’d have to look for a new wife before too long. The thought of it, though, made his heart hurt enough that he let out a sob. There was no way he could replace Lori, but there was no way he could take care of the homestead and the children on his own. Beth was a sweet little thing, but she was just a few years older than Carl and Rick didn’t think he would ever see her as anything other than a child.  

Another week on the road brought him to Cheyenne. He stopped at the towns that Hershel had recommended, but since the winter had been so harsh, everyone was tighten their belts and weren’t in the buying or trading mood. The burg was surprisingly fine considering it had only been there since the end of the war. Brick buildings lined the streets and rich folk were everywhere. Lori would have been beside herself with joy, the city was almost as good as going to New York or San Francisco. It was a bit overwhelming for a simple man like Rick.

He consulted his map to find the hotel that Hershel had recommended. It was getting near sundown and Rick was wore plumb out. He wanted a warm meal and a beer before going to a comfortable bed. Tomorrow was time enough to go get his supplies.  

Rick rose with the sun the next morning, eager to get his supplies. He figured it would take most of the day to meet with all the folks that Hershel had told him about. And then he wanted to be on his way tomorrow, first thing.  

The bead guy, Aaron, was closest, so he would go there first. Rick really didn’t know anything about beads, but Hershel had assured him that Aaron wouldn’t steer him wrong.

A little bell tinkled as he opened the door to a glass store front, the rather descriptive sign out front declared the name of the store as ‘Bead Emporium’. It was clean and bright, boxes and cubbies lined the walls and were stacked all around the room, overflowing with colorful beads of all sizes and colors. Rick could never hope to understand anything about them.

“Can I help you?” A tall thin man with short curly hair stepped from the back of the store.

“Hello there. My name’s Rick Grimes. My friend Hershel suggested I come see you,” Rick said as he stuck out his hand.

“Aaron,” the man said as he shook Rick’s hand. “Haven’t seen Hershel this year. How’s he doing?”

“Well, he’s all right now. But he had a bit of bad luck and lost part of his leg. I’m taking over his route this year. ‘Fraid to say I’m running a good three weeks behind.”  

“That’s too bad. Send him my well wishes when you see him again,”  Aaron said.

“Sure will,”  Rick nodded.

“Now, how can I help ya?”  Aaron asked.

“Well, I’m hoping to pick your brain and see what you think I need. ‘Cause I have no idea.”

Aaron smiled before he got down to business and helped Rick pick out several types of beads, explaining what each bead would be used for and how important the colors were. It was fascinating, there was almost a language to it. 

A crash from the back of the store prompted Aaron to leave Rick to investigate. He could just hear him talking to another man.

“Are you alright? I told you I would get it as soon as I was done with this customer.”

Rick couldn’t hear the reply, muffled as it was, but it sounded male. 

“Yes, I know you hate lying around, but your ankle is broken.” Aaron continued to chide the other man.

Rick really tried not to listen in, his mother would be appalled at his rudeness, but there wasn’t much else to be done. He couldn’t walk outside or the poor owners would think he was leaving them. And there was no one else at the shop to talk to. 

Aaron came back to the front of the store with an arm around a man with a slim build and light hair. At first Rick thought they were brothers, but then he noticed the care in which Aaron helped the other man and the way he was looking at his companion. Rick had known some men in the army, men that were brothers in arms, and men that were more. Men that found a companion that they would stick to like a burr. He’d never had any issue with those men, army life was tough and a man sometimes took comfort from where he could. So, he figured it was none of his business how Aaron looked at  _ his _ companion.

Rick left a few dollars lighter, but several bags of beads heavier. Hershel had been right, Aaron was honest and knowledgeable. He felt confident that he had made a good purchase.

The next stop was Dale Horvath’s tack shop. Rick found an earnest, enlightened man who talked his ear off about how the government had done the natives wrong. Rick couldn’t say he disagreed with him, but there wasn’t anything Rick could do about it.

“They’re trying to change them and make ‘em like white folk. Taking all their traditions and making them Christians, taking their children and sending ‘em off to school. They lived thousands of years just fine without the white man.” Dale said with wide eyes and waving of arms, his face going red. "They can teach 'em the language and rules of society without strippin' 'em of their culture! "

Rick shook his head, “I don’t see how sending their kids off to school and havin’ them wear respectable clothes is stripping them of their culture.”

Dale stepped closer to Rick to make his point, “It’s not just that. The missions go in there and tell them they are behaving shamefully and turning their younguns against them and their way of life. Tellin’ em they’re all going to hell if they don’t stop their heathen ways.”

“The preacher at my church says it’s our Christian duty to help them get into heaven,” Rick said.

Dale snorted, “I’m Jewish, we don’t believe in heaven. Or hell, for that matter.”

“Okay, I promise I won’t try and convert any of them to Christianity.” Rick said with a half smile. He wasn’t sure he’d convinced Dale he wasn’t out to destroy their culture, but he at least was able to make his purchases and get out of there.

Rick found Theodore outside his shop, packing up a cart. 

“Hello,” Rick greeted the man.

Theodore paused and stuck out his hand for Rick to shake, “How are you?”

“Doing fine. You Theodore Douglas? Names’s Rick Grimes, Hershel Greene said you’ve got the best metal and knives in all of Cheyenne. Hope to buy some off ya to take for trade.”

Theodore smiled and leaned against his cart, “How is old Mr. Greene? Haven’t heard from him since year before last.”

“Got kicked by a horse, lost a leg, but he still gets around.”

Shaking his head Theodore said, “He’s a tough one, alright. And it’s mighty kind of him to send you my way, but I’m out of the metal business. On my way to San Francisco. This past winter has about wiped me out. Sold all my stuff to a man named Axel down the road a bit. I’d stay and chat with ya, but I’ve got a train to catch. Tell Mr. Greene I’ll be praying for him.”

Axel had blond hair and a handlebar moustache. He was a squirrelly little man and Rick could see the ex-con in him by the way he was always darting his eyes around the shop. Rick felt a little bad by how easily the man came down on his prices when Rick haggled with him, but the town had hit a rough spot and probably Axel hadn’t had many customers in a while.

He finally made it to Jessie’s fabric shop. She was a pretty little thing, but seemed too fragile for such a big town. Rick could just make out a faint bruise on her cheek. He knew lots of men hit their wives, but he’d always thought it wasn’t very gentlemanly to hit a woman, no matter how mad a man got.

They were discussing the merits of calico over checks when a tall blond with a chip on his shoulder strolled in. Jessie cautiously took a step away from Rick as she smiled at the man.

“Pete! I didn’t expect you back for another hour! I haven’t gotten dinner done.” Her smile seemed too bright, too forced.

Pete eyed Rick up and down before answering Jessie, his eyes never leaving Rick’s, ”Last appointment canceled. Thought I’d come home and surprise ya. Didn’t know you were...busy.”

Rick hated the guy before he’d even finished his sentence. He knew the type. Figured the world owed them something. Figured that since he was a big guy that everyone ought to bow down to his whims.

Well, Rick had him figured out. He widened his stance ever so slightly and lowered his voice as he spoke to the man, “She sure knows her stuff. I don’t know a damn thing about fabric and it sure be a waste of my time to buy stuff nobody wants.”

Pete’s eyes flicked to Jessie, ”So glad she could be of help.”

“Let me just finish up here Pete and I’ll get dinner ready for ya.” Jessie said with forced cheerfulness.

Pete narrowed his eyes at her before looking at Rick again. Rick stared right back. He wouldn’t be intimidated by this blowhard. Hopefully he would realize Rick wasn’t there to hit on this wife, just buy some damn calico to trade to the natives. 

“You know, just give me ten bolts of whatever you think the Cheyenne might like,” Rick said as he turned back to Jessie.

“You taking this to them damn Indians?” Pete asked incredulously.

“For trade. I’ll trade them fabric and beads and things for furs. Rabbit and buffalo mostly.” Rick really was done with this ass.

“Them damn Indians ain’t nothing but a bunch of murderers and rapists.” Pete said with ranchor.

“No, I don’t believe so. Not any more so than the army, I can tell you that.”

“Mr.Grimes, I’ve got your fabric all ready. That’ll just be five dollars.” Jessie called from the back where the till was.

“Waste of damn time and resources to civilize them damn savages. Ought to just shoot em all.” Pete said as he brushed past Rick, “Jessie, don’t worry about my dinner. I’ll eat down at the saloon.”

“Pete,” Rick called. 

Pete stopped, but didn’t turn around.

“I’ll be stopping back by soon. Ya’ll have a good selection and fair prices. And Jessie is a mighty fine salesperson. I’d take it as a personal insult if she wasn’t here and fit as a fiddle.”

The door slammed open hard enough to make it smack against the outside wall as Pete stormed out. Rick hoped the man wouldn’t take his anger out on his wife, but you never knew what a man might do once he’s had some whiskey.

Rick gave Jessie a knowing look as he paid for his merchandise, she seemed to know what he was about.

“Don’t worry. He’ll probably stay there tonight. The owner buys fabric for his dancing girls from me and well, he convinces Pete to stay there if he’s had too much.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. I promise, I’ll be fine.”

Rick had his doubts, but there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. Short of killing his wife, Pete could do whatever he wanted. Rick would keep good on his promise though, he’d come back by after he was done and check on Jessie. He didn’t have any problem teaching Pete a lesson.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, OK, OK! I _know_! Daryl will show up next chapter. I think...no, he will. I'm pretty sure. Also, I am tired and sore.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick makes it into the Cheyenne territory, will he find what he is after?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter wouldn't be possible without the patience of one [KatyTheInspiredWorkaholic](%E2%80%9D), thank a million times for all your help.

Colorado was stunning. With it’s towering mountains and sweeping vistas. Rick had never felt so small.  He wished that he could draw or something so that he could record the landscape, but he would have to just try and remember so that he could tell Carl when he got home.

The trip there had been long, almost  three weeks of hard trail riding with occasional stops in small frontier towns. Rick had done a little trading then as well, mostly to stockpile metal and beads to trade to the Cheyenne. He may have been looking for a kid, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t actually make a profit on this trip. 

Wyoming territory had been just as beautiful as  Colorado , but with  less people. Rick had been traveling through  the vast wilderness  now for three days without seeing a single person, or even a trail to indicate there might be people around. All he’d seen was wildlife.. Elk and deer , buffalo  herds , rabbits  and ground squirrels , bears  on occasion (and didn’t that give him a fright), and such a variety of birds he’d never hope to be able to remember them all. 

His scouting days served him well, as there were no manmade landmarks to guide him to his destination. He had a rough estimate of where the reservation was  just past the Montana border,  and hoped he would find signs soon. He’d laid out a few snares for rabbits and fished in the plentiful streams, but he yearned for human interaction after so many days with just Walker and Nick for company.

He was not far from Cheyenne country when he found a creek to camp next to. Walker and Nick were wor n down from the long day, their heads drooping and their feet dragging, so Rick felt he’d gone far enough. He was hot and the creek looked cool. And he couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.

After getting his camp set up and the horses taken care of, he shucked off his boots and stripped down to step into the cool creek. It was shockingly cold water from the mountains, but it felt like euphoria. The sharpness of it stripping away the weeks of grime he’d forgotten that he was carrying around on himself.

The soap was still in a saddlebag, so Rick just scrubbed his hair and body with the fresh water.  Once he was thoroughly cleansed he got out and sluiced the water off before laying, fully naked, on a blanket to dry off in the sun.    

He must have fallen asleep because he startled when he heard Walker give a sharp huff. The sun was low in the sky, pushing long shadows across the ground. That may have been why he didn’t notice the man standing a few feet away until he spoke.

“You have fever?” 

Rick scrambled to cover his nakedness and stand up before trying to answer the man who was clearly a native, “Uh, no. I was hot and I took a swim. I guess I fell asleep.”

Rick stayed calm, he knew he wouldn’t need his gun right now, if the man had wanted him dead, he’d be dead. So now he was standing there awkwardly with the blanket wrapped around him from chest to ankle. He couldn’t really see the man’s face because of the long shadows, but he could see he was wearing buckskin with long fringes, a single feather stuck up from the back of his head.

Rick stuck out his hand, “My name’s Rick Grimes.”

The man tilted his head at Rick before trying to repeat his name, “Rick Rimes?”

“Uh, no. Grimes. _Ga_ - rimes.” 

“Rick  _ Ga _ rimes.”

“Close enough,” Rick let his hand drop and shifted his blanket a little tighter around himself.

The man didn’t seem forthcoming with his own name, so Rick asked, “Can I get your name?”

His head tilted the other way before he answered, “Short Arrow.”

There was a noise from the edge of the tree line that sounded like a bark or a cough that caused Short Arrow to look that way with a sharp turn of his head.  

That was when Rick finally got a good look at the man’s face. Blue eyes squinted into the sun and blond stubble on his chin giving him away as white. But Rick was stuck on the mole, the mole that was right above his lip on the left side.

“Daryl Dixon?”

Short Arrow looked back at Rick, confusion in his eyes, “Dic-son?”

“Your name, it’s Daryl Dixon.” Rick couldn’t believe it. Here he was looking for a baby or a small child and instead there was a full grown man in front of him. He was going to kick Merle Dixon’s ass when he saw him next. 

“No, I am Short Arrow,” the man insisted.  

“You have a brother, Merle.” Rick prompted giving Daryl a hard stare.

“Merle?” Short Arrow’s eyes softened as he bit his lip.  

“Yes, Merle Dixon. He said you were his baby brother. I was expecting a baby, not a full grown man. But here ya are.” 

“Baby brother?” Short Arrow repeated.

“How long have you been with the Cheyenne?” Rick asked him.

Short Arrow didn’t respond. He gave Rick another piercing look before turning and striding off to the treeline. 

“Hey! Don’t run off! I came here looking for you.” Rick would have taken off after him, but he was shoeless and naked under a blanket. And if Daryl had been with the Cheyenne as long as Rick suspected, then Rick had no chance of following him in the dim light of twilight. He could only hope that the man would come back. Rick was certain Daryl had damn well known he had a brother Merle and that his name was really Daryl Dixon.

Rick quickly got dressed before he lost all the light and then set about making a fire to cook a little dinner.  All he had were some beans and a bit of hard tack, having forgotten to set a snare for a rabbit. Hershel had said the Cheyenne would feed him most of the time and Rick would rely on his ability to catch game and fish, so he hadn’t packed too much food.

He made sure the horses were bedded down before getting his bedroll out and setting it up next to the fire. Although it was summer, it still could dip down near freezing during the night in Montana. Rick knew that from his scouting days.

The moon was waning and it was just a little sliver in the sky full of stars that spread across the night sky , blazing like gravel diamonds cut out from the sun. It would probably be a while before he got to sleep, what with his mid-afternoon nap and then finding, and losing, the subject of his search.  He would have to try though if he wanted to get up at first light in hopes of catching his quarry.  Rick suspected he wouldn’t see Daryl unless Daryl wanted to be seen, but Rick was a good tracker himself and had high hopes. 

To say that Rick had been surprised to see that Daryl wasn’t a kid would be a woeful understatement. The man looked to be Rick’s age, younger or older had been hard to tell in the dim light. Though Daryl’s build was similar to the natives in that he was long and lean, his shoulders were a tad wider and of course his lighter hair and eyes set him apart. He’d spoken English well enough, but it had been troublesome that he couldn’t remember his real name or his brother. Could he have been with the Cheyenne that long? Or did he purposefully forget his childhood? Or maybe the man was just pretending he didn’t know hoping that Rick wouldn’t keep at it. 

The next morning when Rick woke he noticed a dead grouse laying next to his fire. He would have found it suspicious except for the clear footprint on the ground next to it.  Short Arrow, no, Daryl, must have seen Rick eating the hardtack and felt pity for him. Rick was mighty grateful, he wasn’t looking forward to another meal like he’d had last night. And the game bird would cook up quickly as soon as Rick got it cleaned. Not his favorite thing to do, but he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. 

The bird was cleaned and set on a spit over the low fire. It would take longer to cook it than he was originally planning on taking for breakfast, but he figured Daryl was still close by keeping an eye on him. He had a feeling he would see Daryl again before the day was through.

After breakfast he packed up his camp and, following Hershel’s map, headed for the first village on his list. According to the old trader, they would want fabric and beads and Rick could expect to get some rabbit fur as well as some buffalo skins.

He followed the creek for near a week before he started seeing signs of a village, a discarded basket, hoofprints from several horses, a dog pacing him. Hershel had told him to be patient and stay near water if he wanted to find the Cheyenne. They were nomadic and could decide to move the village at any time. The whole camp could be broken down and ready to go within an hour to chase after game. 

As he traveled to the village he felt, no he  _ knew _ , he was being watched. He had nothing to fear even if they stayed hidden. And by  _ they _ he meant Daryl Dixon. The man was good, Rick would give him that. Rick hadn’t even gotten a glimpse of him. But Rick had been a scout with the army for too long for him not to notice when he was being watched.  

Rick soon came across a young man at the creek watering his horse. He didn’t seem frightened or even surprised to see Rick and after explaining as best he could by using hand signals and what Rick could remembered about the language from his days in service about Hershel the young man took him to meet with the village Chief, Running Creek. 

Rick walked through the village of tipis painted with bold colors. Buffalo, deer, wolves and other animals cavorted across the expanses of tanned buffalo skin. Women tended to fires or bustled about doing various tasks and chores among the maze of tents while the few men he saw made arrows or were coming into the village with the day’s kills. He got some curious looks, but no one stopped him on his way to the Chief’s tipi in the middle of the village. 

The man must have been Chief for a long time going by all of the finery and eagle feathers he wore. Chief Running Creek patiently listened as Rick spoke to him about making a trade for rabbit skins and finished buffalo hides. They sat outside the Chief’s tipi as they negotiated,  and  Rick was probably a tick over generous, but the trade came second to Dixon. And he wanted to stay in the Chief’s good graces if he needed any help convincing Daryl to talk to him.

They offered for him to spend the night and he gratefully accepted, the village would be more entertaining than just Walker and Nick. The dinner of rabbit, nuts, and corn he enjoyed much better than the hardtack of the night before. Rick hadn’t seen any cornfields, so he suspected it had come from the U.S. government.  

He was just finishing his rabbit leg when a group of about four men came into the fire light and sat amongst the people, one of them next to him. Rick noticed that it was Daryl that had settled across the fire from him, somewhat on his own, clearly marked by his wider shoulders. The other men must have been with Daryl the whole time and just hadn’t shown themselves. 

A Cheyenne woman offered the newcomers food and they all quickly started eating. By the way Daryl was staring a hole in him, Rick figured he’d be talking to the man sooner rather than later about going back to civilization. Daryl seemed to be just as curious about Rick as Rick was of him. 

At first glance it seemed like Daryl was just another warrior sitting around the fire. But then Rick noticed that Daryl had sat apart from the rest. And even though Daryl wasn’t ignored, he didn’t thrust himself into the conversation unless asked a question. And while Rick seemed to be the talk of the village, Daryl was all but forgotten after he’d gotten his meal. 

It took Rick a few minutes to start matching up the cadence of the language with what he remembered, the Chief would occasionally repeat something in English to Rick, which helped quite a lot. 

The man on his left, who Rick had heard called Standing Horse, leaned over and looked at Rick and then across the fire to Daryl before asking in English, “You know Squirrel?”

“Squirrel? I thought he was Short Arrow?” Rick looked away from Daryl and to the man next to him in confusion as the people around him chuckled.

Daryl stood up quickly and left the fire. The man next to Rick shook his head, “He is too soft. He knows it is joke.”

“You call him Squirrel as a joke?” Rick asked.

“It is not my story. Short Arrow will tell you when he is ready.” 

It was just another mystery about the man that Rick would need to figure out. He still needed to talk to Daryl, needed to know why he was still with the Cheyenne when it was obvious he could leave if he wanted to. And Rick needed to know more about why Merle acted like Daryl was just a child when in fact he looked to be near the same age as Rick. Although Rick had yet to see the man in full daylight to get a clear picture.

After dinner Rick stayed sitting around the fire listening to a story about a spider and a coyote tricking a man out of an elk tongue. Rick wasn’t sure what the point of the story was, with his Cheyenne being so rusty, but he did know the coyote didn’t fare too well and ending up tied up and floating down a stream. The rest of the tribe thought it a very funny story and there was much laughing and knee slapping.

Looking up at the night sky Rick decided he would turn in for the night, he knew the women of the tribe would be up before the sun to get water and collect branches for their morning fires, part of the lesson that Hershel had given him. A young boy took him to a large tipi that Rick would be staying in for the night. After making sure his things were stowed away he went out to where Walker and Nick were tied up with the tribe’s horses.  

It was much cooler away from the fire and the village, the horses huddling together for warmth. Rick was just finishing brushing Walker when he felt a presence behind him. Quickly turning around, he could just make out the shape of Daryl, Rick wouldn’t think of him as Short Arrow, his broad shoulders so unlike any of the other Cheyenne.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

“Taking care of my horse.” Rick replied.

Daryl gave a snort of frustration, “No. Why are you here at the village.”

“To trade,” Rick said with some puzzlement, he could play dumb too. 

“The Chief, he laughed at you. He said you are a bad trader. Says Hershel did not teach you well.”

Rick swore softly, he knew he hadn’t made the best trades, but he didn’t think it was laughable. He only hoped the other villages didn’t hear about this, or he’d have a hard time of it going forward.

“Look, I know I didn’t make the best trades tonight. But I wanted your people to trust me. Guess I just went a bit too far.”

“I will not go back.”

“What?”

“To the white man’s world. There is nothing for me there.” Daryl was no longer looking at Rick.  Instead he was looking over his shoulder towards the village where they could hear laughter still.

“What about your brother, Merle?”

Daryl snorted through his nose, “He left before me.”

“To fight a war,” Rick would leave off for now which side Merle fought on.

“He left me.” Daryl insisted before turning and striding back to the village. 

Rick thought about calling him back, but knew he’d just be wasting his time. Besides, Daryl seemed to be sticking close to Rick for some reason , so Rick figured he’d get time again to talk to the man. Time to earn his trust and figure out why he stayed with the Cheyenne. And once he knew that, he could work on convincing him to come back to the white man’s world and back to his brother.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG! They finally meet! Now what? lol 
> 
> Also, extra points to whoever can find the song lyric and name the artist. I'll tell you next chapter. Or maybe someone will post it in the comments?


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some thangs happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to all of you that have shown your love and support for this fic. 
> 
> This chapter wouldn't be possible without the incomparable [KatyTheInspiredWorkaholic](%E2%80%9D), thank you dear, you are the best.

Rick woke with a start in the early morning hours. He was too warm. The tipi he was in was just bright enough that he could see several bodies lying around him. He recognized Daryl laying over by the opening, his broad shoulders giving him away in the dawn light. 

He could hear the women of the village talking quietly just outside. Rick wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing that Daryl was lying just over there, a mystery wrapped in buckskin, so he decided he’d help the women collect water and wood for their fires. It never bothered him to help Lori in what other men would think of as women’s work, there was too much to be done some days to worry about who did what.

A quick trip to check on his horses and then he was following the women to the creek. He saw a  very young woman who was pregnant and obviously near her due date struggling with a water jug. Rick didn’t even think about it, just pulled the full jug from her arms and motioned for her to go in front of him so that he could follow.

Rick ended up carrying two more jugs for the woman before her husband came out of their tipi.  Rick was afraid he may of offended the man by the look he got, but nothing was said. So Rick felt it was ok to go and help collect sticks for their fire as well. The man was off talking to the group that Daryl was with when Rick came back and dumped his load of wood off. 

He could see Daryl watching him with slitted eyes and he realized it was the first time he’d seen Daryl in full light. Even from halfway across the village, Daryl stuck out. Oh, he wore the same buckskin clothes, and had a feather stuck up behind his head like many of the other men. But his coloring was all off. And he had a bit of scruff on his chin that none of the other men had. His hands were more blunt and less elegant too.

The Cheyenne men treated Daryl as one of their own though, as far as Rick could tell. They spoke in their native tongue to him and looked Daryl in the eye when they spoke, even though Daryl seemed to hold himself apart. And Rick noticed now that Daryl was standing among the men of the tribe that his buckskin was completely unadorned. Daryl was looking in Rick’s direction and shaking his head at whatever the husband had said to him. Rick wasn’t sure what they may have been talking about, but suspected it was himself.

Checking to make sure the woman had all she needed, Rick strode over to where Daryl and the other men were talking. They all scattered at his approach except for Daryl, who stood with his weight on one foot, looking ready to bolt.

Stopping in front of Daryl, Rick noticed that not only did his body betray his European origins, but so did his light eyes. Rick was astonished to see just  _ how  _ blue they were. Piercing even.  

Rick gave his best smile, hoping to find out what the fuss had been about, “Didn’t upset him, did I?

“He wanted to know,” Daryl paused and waved his hand lazily at Rick. “But I told him you had wife.”

Rick looked down at his wedding band. There had been a lot of discussion between Lori and himself about him even wearing a ring. But he was gone a lot and he was proud to be married to Lori, so he’d wanted to wear one. A small, simple band of gold. He’d never even thought about taking it off after her death.

“She’s…” Rick swallowed, blew out a breath and licked his lips, “She’s gone. Be a year come November.”

Daryl’s eyes softened, “I am sorry for you.” 

Rick put his hands on his hips and looked off into the distance, back to where home was. Where Lori and his children were. He sighed heavily and nodded his head in the jerky way that he did. Lori always said she knew he was really upset when he did that. He missed her more than words could ever say.

“What exactly did he ask?” Rick wanted to know.

“If you were he'émáné'e. But there isn’t a thing like that outside here. And you do not dress like one.” Daryl explained.

Rick had heard of he'émáné'e of course. They were a custom of the Cheyenne and some of the other tribes, but Rick always had thought they were something like medicine men. Maybe they were something different. But he wasn’t here to catalog the mysteries of the native tribes. 

He chewed his lip for a minute before looking back to Daryl, the reason he’d left his family. “Your brother, Merle. He asked me to come look for ya. The reason I’m here.”

Daryl’s whole body tensed up. His eyes squinting into a hard glare. “He left me. He went away. He can come find me.” 

Rick nodded his head, “Yeah, well he said he was on his way. But he got waylaid and sent me instead.”

“He has been  _ waylaid  _ for too long. I will not leave the Cheyenne because he sent you after me.” Daryl said impatiently. 

“Why are you here? How did you end up here?” Rick asked as he looked around at the little Cheyenne village.

But when he looked back, Daryl was gone, lost in the morning activity of the village. Rick wasn’t sure if he’d ruined his chances or if Daryl would continue to follow him as he traded throughout the reservation and give Rick more time to convince him. Lori’d always said he could charm the skin off a snake. 

“He is hard.”

Rick turned around to see the little pregnant woman looking off to where Daryl must have gone. “Yeah, I get that.”

“He has been with the people for long time. Maybe he forgets what it is to live as you do?”

“I don’t think so. He may have a better reason to stay here.”

She shook her head, “He has no wife. No child.”

“He never found a wife?” Rick asked.

“Many of the women, he break their heart. He does not wan…”

She didn’t finish her sentence, her husband had come back to their tent and sat by the fire. She hurried over to be with him, chattering in their language and gesturing to Rick excitedly. Her husband laughed and shook his head.

Rick decided he didn’t care what her husband thought, he didn’t seem to be angry with Rick for talking to his wife, so Rick figured it was all peachy. His stomach gave a low growl so Rick went in search of the Chief, hoping to get some breakfast before he left.

*

Rick squinted into the sun. He was following the directions the Chief had given him. And really, how hard was it to follow a creek for two days? But he still hadn’t found the next village. He had found some cold fire pits, but no people. They must have left just a few days before he’d gotten there.

He was pretty sure Daryl was still trailing him too. He thought he’d gotten a glimpse once or twice of buckskin, but he couldn’t be sure. Rick had tried hollering at the man to join him at his fire, but hadn’t gotten a response. 

It was his third day out from the last village and he was tired. He decided to call it a night when he found himself dozing off in the saddle. Walker would keep on going until he dropped if he did fall asleep. And Rick really didn’t need a lame horse this far from civilization.

A bend in the creek that had a dry sandy spot looked as good as any, so Rick picketed the horses and went in search of kindling to start a fire. He had a small bit gathered up when he heard Nick snort. Rick just shook his head, that damn horse was a nervous nelly sometimes. Walker’s loud, clear squeal, however, was a different story.

Rick dropped what few sticks he had and hightailed it back to where the horses were, his heart in his throat. Walker wasn’t one to get worked up over nothing, whatever was scaring the horses must be truly formidable. Rick just hoped it wasn’t wolves, he couldn’t take on a whole pack by himself. But he hadn’t heard any in the whole time he’d been in Montana.

The only thing worse would have been a bear. A big, old, hungry looking bear. A bear that was trying to get in the saddle bag attached to Nick. A bear that was ignoring Walker’s angry screams and hooves.

Rick pulled out his gun and aimed at the bear’s left eye, but the damn thing wouldn’t stop moving. He then hollered and waved his arms at it, trying to get its attention away from his panicked animal. The bear roared in Rick’s direction, but continued to paw at the bag on Nick’s flank. 

The scene was as chaotic as it was intense, Nick and Walker were both squealing - Nick in fright, Walker in anger - Rick was stomping and yelling, and the bear was still trying to get into the saddle bag. Luckily Rick hadn’t unloaded Nick yet. He still had all sorts of bags and bundles on him that kept the bears paws from tearing into horse flesh. Then again, the bear might have been after some of the food that the Chief from the last village had given Rick. 

There was nothing for it though, Rick would have to get closer to the bear to lure it away. With how much the three animals were moving around he didn’t think he’d get a clean shot. And shooting one of the horses was not acceptable.

Taking a deep breath, Rick rushed at the bear, hoping to draw it away. That seemed to work, because ol’ faded fur gave a snarl and and deliberately turned away from Nick to stare him down. Swallowing his fear, Rick backed up, hoping the bear would follow.

The bear lumbered away from the horses a few feet before raising up onto his hind legs, Rick planted his feet and raised his gun. He’d probably only get one shot,so he intended not to miss. The bullet had already left his gun when the bear fell back down to all fours and charged Rick. 

Rick again pointed his gun at the bear, this time just hoping to hit it, as there was no way he could aim with how fast the thing was coming at him. He got off another round, and he was sure he’d hit it this time, but still the bear didn’t stop.

He could just smell it’s awful breath as it bore down on him, pushing Rick to the ground. Rick tried to get his gun up again in a desperate attempt to shoot it anywhere, when the fletching of an arrow flew by his face to land neatly in the left eye of the bear. Rick turned his head just in time to miss getting the dead bear’s teeth dug into his face.

The weight of the bear was crushing, it must have weighed as much as Walker. His breathing was hard and Rick’s heart was still beating a mile a minute when he heard voices all around him. A hand reached in front of his face to pull the arrow from the bear, dripping it’s gore all over Rick.

Several hands pushed the bear from Rick, as another set pulled him from under the bruising weight of the bear. Rick closed his eyes and thanked his lucky stars that Daryl and his buddies had been following him around for the last few week or so.

“You hurt?” Daryl asked.

“I don’t think so. Shook up mostly.” Rick still hadn’t opened his eyes, afraid the Cheyenne men would be laughing at him.

Standing Bear looked at Rick and said in a mixture of English and Cheyenne, “That old náhkohe, he raided many villages. Killed horses and dogs. Took an eye from a man last summer. Chased a boy until…” he paused and looked at Daryl who subtly shook his head, “We are not sad to lose his spirit.” 

Rick sat up and opened his eyes, surprised to see all of the men butchering the bear. Some pieces, like the paws, were left intact and set aside, while the rest of the bear was quickly broken down into smaller pieces for transport. One of the men offered a piece of the still warm meat to Rick. He knew better than to refuse, so he took the bite and chewed on the nasty, stringy meat. He must have made a face, because that’s when the men laughed at him. Rick laughed right along with them, relieved to still be alive to be laughed at.

“We will share the teeth and the hide. The meat will go to the village that is near.” Daryl told Rick.

“I didn’t earn them. I missed.” Rick stood up and strode away to clean his face and neck off in the creek before going to check on Nick and Walker.

A whole bag of beads was spread out in the dirt under the still spooked Nick. The saddle bag was hanging on by just a thread and a bundle of hides had a giant gash in them that could make them worthless. But Nick had no marks on him, which Rick was ever so grateful for. He walked the horses a few yards away from where they were butchering their attacker, the smell of blood would cause them to panic.

Daryl walked to Nick’s head to help calm him. “You were brave. You protected your horses.”

“Still almost got killed.”

“That bear, he was old and mean. You have no shame.” Daryl searched Rick’s face until Rick met his eyes, “You were brave.”

Rick nodded his head and blew out a breath. His hands were still shaking. He needed to walk off his nerves, but needed to take care of his horses first. Nick would take the most coaxing, so Rick dug around in the torn saddle bag for the tin of sugar cubes that the bear was probably after. He gave two to Nick and one to Walker. The horses nickered at Rick and nuzzled his hands as he gave out the treat. 

Daryl helped by unpacking Nick’s load, carefully setting aside anything that looked damaged. Rick focused on Walker, he wasn’t as skittish, but was still worked up. A walk around the campsite helped to finally calm Rick’s big roan.

He didn’t especially want to stay here tonight after all that, but the horses would be worthless tomorrow if he tried to move them. Nick still wasn’t calmed down, tossing his head and stamping a foot every once in awhile. Daryl was talking to him in a quiet voice and rubbing his head, hoping to calm the horse. Rick let Walker rub right up against Nick, the stronger horse doing his part to calm his stable mate.

Rick dug around in the supplies laying on the ground and found the feed bags, filling them up and then attaching them to the horses. That should get Nick relaxed enough that he would sleep soon. Walker was already happily munching away.

The men had the bear completely butchered by the time Rick and Daryl got finished with the horses. One came to Daryl and they spoke in their language for a bit, Rick only catching a few words like ‘village’, ‘bear’, and ‘tonight’. Daryl and the other man said their goodbyes and the rest packed up a good amount of the bear and tracked into the woods, leaving behind some meat,a paw, and Daryl who waved at the men as they left. 

Rick was still just standing there, his head still in that moment when the bear charged him. What was he thinking? He had two children and a homestead he had to get back to. And he’d found Merle’s brother. A brother that was older than Rick expected and that didn’t want to go back. Why was Rick even still here? 

It was mostly Hershel’s money that had bought the trade goods, so Rick was obligated to make money for him. And he’d only visited one village on the reservation. Hershel had said to visit at least five. But the biggest reason he was still here was that he wanted to unravel the mystery of Daryl Dixon. So that was why he was still standing there in the quickly fading light of Montana, fulfilling obligations and working on a riddle.

“Come, let’s get wood for your fire.” Daryl said as he motioned past Rick to the tree line. 

Rick nodded his head and followed behind, he’d be patient for the next few weeks just to see this through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Daryl. How on earth is he going to restrain himself around Rick now?


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick and Daryl hang out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to [KatyTheInspiredWorkaholic](%E2%80%9D). Such a wonderful person and writer.

They soon had a roaring fire with bear meat dripping from a spit raised above it. Rick didn’t usually eat bear, but he was looking forward to eating this one, not for the taste, but for the satisfaction. He was going to have to dig around in the dirt tomorrow to find as many beads as he could because of the damn thing. 

Daryl was working by the light of the fire, doing something with the paw. It looked like he was carefully taking it apart and laying the pieces by the flames. Rick would just as soon left it for the wolves, but he could tell Daryl wouldn’t want to waste it.Surely there was some kind of spiritual properties to it that Daryl might want to have.He seemed especially particular about the claws and bones in the paw. 

They didn’t say anything as they sat there, Rick still stuck on the bear, Daryl busy with his task. It was nice. Lori’d always chatter on about this or that, she couldn’t stand the silence, singing softly to herself if there was no one around to talk to. Rick hadn’t really minded, she had a beautiful voice. And he’d enjoyed it after listening to nothing but his horse’s hoofbeats for weeks on end.

But now the quiet was helping to calm his racing heart. The easy movements of Daryl’s knife and the sharp crackle of the fire a soft melody to soothe his jagged nerves. And he was glad he wasn’t alone. He knew he’d be jumping at every sound and every change in the wind if he wasn’t. 

After a while Daryl laid the last piece of the paw by the fire and checked the meat. It must have been satisfactory because he pulled the spit from the fire and laid it across a stone to cool. Rick had put some beans on to heat up, so they would have those too.

“I only got one plate,” Rick told Daryl.

Daryl gave a little smirk and said, “I do not remember the last plate I ate from.”

So Rick ate from the plate and Daryl used pieces of meat to scoop beans out of the pot. It was the best dinner Rick had had for quite some time - even if the meat was stringy and sour and the beans half cooked. 

Rick washed out the dishes in the creek and got his bedroll ready. He wasn’t ready to sleep just yet, but he liked to be prepared. That’s when it hit him that Daryl was planning on staying by Rick’s campfire all night. 

“You don’t have to stay, you can go on and sleep wherever it is that you normally sleep.”

“Your horse is still scared. I will stay and make sure it does not spook tonight.”

Right, his horse. Nick the nervous Nelly. He wasn’t convinced that Daryl was concerned about the horse, but Rick didn’t want to fight him about staying. It was a welcome gesture.

“All right.” Rick didn’t know what else to say, and Daryl being there with him wouldn’t be terrible. He was supposed to be convincing him to go back to see Merle and to fulfill the promise Rick had made to Lori.

They sat there by the fire, watching the embers glow and the flames dance for a while before Daryl got up and said he’d be back in a few minutes. He returned with a bundle of elk furs that he laid out on the opposite side of Rick’s bedroll. Rick nodded to Daryl, it was a good sleeping arrangement. 

Rick tossed and turned in his bed that night. The image of the bear lunging at him stuck behind his eyes. He knew he was being silly, the thing was dead and part of it was in Rick’s belly. But the screams of his horses and the rancid smell of that bear just wouldn’t go away. Rick got up to take a piss, his nerves working on his bladder too.

He came back to see Daryl was up, his back to the fire as he scanned the area.

“Sorry, went to take a leak,” he sheepishly told Daryl.

Daryl nodded his head and waited for Rick to lie down again before taking himself to his own bed.

Rick wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Daryl was still eyeing him across the campfire, watching  \-  for what, Rick didn’t know. Somehow knowing that Daryl was there helped Rick finally relax, the bear no longer at the forefront of his mind because Daryl now occupied that spot. Thoughts of how Daryl ended up with the Cheyenne, or why he wanted to stay so badly. 

Why hadn’t he settled down and married and had children? Daryl was a man near Rick’s age, so it would make sense. And he seemed to be able to take care of himself well enough. He was certainly fit, Rick had noticed that right away. He fell asleep with too many questions and  thoughts of a pair of blue eyes staring at him across the fire.

Rick woke to the sounds of splashing. Daryl was in the creek, naked, washing himself. It was still a might chilly, so Rick wasn’t sure why Daryl was almost completely submerged. Daryl didn’t notice that Rick was awake, and Rick didn’t want to disturb him, so he stayed lying where he was. 

He’d never really paid attention to another man’s body, but he found himself covertly looking over what he could see of Daryl’s wide shoulders and firm chest. Daryl was paler than his companions, his European ancestry showing again, but he was still tanned from exposure to the sun and the elements. Rick had to bite his lip when Daryl turned his back, showing a multitude of scars. Whatever had caused them had happened long ago by the looks of them. Were they from the Cheyenne? Some secret initiation ritual that Rick wasn’t aware of? Had he gotten them earlier from when he was a child? It really wasn’t any of Rick’s business, so he decided he wouldn’t make mention of them.

Rick was still feigning sleep when Daryl climbed out of the creek, water streaking down his body, hair dripping. He was surprised to see how hairless Daryl seemed to be. He had a thick patch at his groin, but nary a hair on his legs, chest, or arms. Quite contrary to Rick. Lori had always joked he had enough hair on his chest to make a rug.

It was unseemly to stare at a naked man getting out of his bath, so Rick closed one eye. Now he wasn’t staring, just keeping track of where Daryl was. That was acceptable.

Daryl for his part had sluiced water off his body and wrung out his hair before using a small piece of fur to wipe the rest of the droplets from himself. He dressed in his buckskin again and affixed his headband and feather on his still wet head. Once he was satisfied with his attire, he turned his attention to Rick. Rick wasn’t sure, but it looked like Daryl was taking his time running his eyes up Rick’s body. 

He had pretended to sleep long enough, so made a big production of stretching and throwing back his bedroll. The morning air was sharp, so he hurried over to the fire to warm up and put his boots on. Daryl was made out of sterner stuff if he could handle taking a bath in frigid water. 

Summer it might be, but this far north, summer was more a suggestion than a full on fact. Rick had grown up in Kentucky before his Pa had decided to move the family to Kansas, and he remembered the hot and humid summers that would suck the breath right out of you. Montana summers were nothing but late spring in Kentucky. 

They didn’t speak as they broke camp after eating a quick breakfast of the fish that Daryl had caught in the creek. Rick had been able to pick up a few more beads, but most were a lost cause, having been trampled by Nick in the night. Though Daryl had repaired the saddlebag, and Rick thanked him with a sharp nod.

It was late morning before they were ready to go. Rick made sure the fire was out as Daryl picked up the pieces of the bear paw. Daryl had told him they were going to the next village, where the other men had taken the rest of the bear carcass, and Rick would be able to do well for himself there. Rick hoped so, he didn’t want the word to spread that he couldn’t haggle. Some of the older Cheyenne men would be ruthless if they knew. 

It was a short trip and Rick was surprised at the warm greeting Daryl received from many of the older women. Almost like he was a returning son. Rick cocked his head in question.

“It is where I live,” Daryl said with a shrug of his broad shoulders.

After leaving their horses with the boys at the edge of the creek, Daryl led Rick to a tipi that sat alone near the woods. He didn’t say anything as he held the flap back for Rick to enter.

“This yours?” Rick asked.

Daryl nodded, “Mm hm.”

Rick looked around the sparse tent. There was a space for a fire in the middle and furs piled up beyond that on the far wall, but other than a few baskets it was empty.

“Don’t come home much?”

“Don't need much.”

“Right,” Rick said with a slow nod of his head.

Daryl motioned to an empty spot on the floor, “Sleep here tonight.”

“Oh, I was hoping to trade this morning and be on my way, can sleep on the trail again.”

Daryl looked Rick in the eye for a long moment before saying, “No. We sleep here tonight.”

Before Rick could answer, there was the sound of excited chatter from a chorus of children right outside the tent. Daryl’s smile was so soft and small that if Rick hadn’t been looking, he might not have seen it.

Daryl hollered out in the Cheyenne language in mock anger. Rick though he heard the words, ‘later’ and ‘go away’. Rick raised a brow in question.

“They want to hear the story of the bear.”

“Great, they want to hear how I fell on my ass and almost got killed by a bear after I let it attack my horses,” Rick said as he pinched his nose in frustration.

“Rick, I have told you. Bear was an old mean bear. He attacked people before.You were brave.” Daryl seemed determined to make Rick feel better. And maybe it was working, because Rick could see how sincere Daryl was in the way he held Rick’s gaze.

Rick nodded his head and motioned out the door, “Can we go see your Chief about the trade?”

Daryl nodded in agreement and took Rick to meet the Chief, Cliff Above the River.  

They didn’t make it two feet from the tent before they were followed by a laughing, shrieking crowd of what looked to be all of the children of the village. They pointed at Rick’s beard and a couple of the boys were braver and tried to grasp it as they walked, Daryl shooed those boys off with a few nasty words. Rick guessed they hadn’t seen many white men before in their village, maybe just Hershel. Surely they knew Daryl was, but he’d been living among them since he was a child himself, hardly something exotic. 

The children were one thing, but when the women and some of the men started staring at them as they walked by, Rick got even more self conscious.It couldn’t be because he was white, it would be hard to find a tribe who had not seen one after all the reservations were established, so there had to be another reason. Rick turned to Daryl in question again, but Daryl was shooting challenging looks at anyone who would meet his eye. Rick wasn’t sure what was going on, he’d make a point to ask later.

Chief Cliff Above the River was a genial old man with a wide smile for Daryl and Rick. He was very generous in his trades and thanked Rick and Daryl for taking out the bear. Which came as a surprise to Rick, who thought he had made a fool of himself during the incident. Maybe it wasn’t a big deal that he’d almost disgraced himself when that bear had attacked. 

After the trades with the Chief, Daryl took Rick to the other side of the village where he could see the bear skin stretched out to dry. There was a group of women working on other skins in various stages of processing. Rick could smell the pungent odor of urine coming from a elk bladder. He knew that using urine was part of the process, but it still stank. 

Daryl handed one of the women the pieces of the paw that he’d dissected last night. She smiled brightly at him, earning herself a chorus of twitters from the other women. She then frowned at Rick before huffing and turning back to her work. Rick wasn’t sure what he’d done to make her mad, but it couldn’t have been too bad since all the other women were now smiling at him. Daryl collected a bag from one of the older women before motioning to Rick that they should go. There was a round of laughter as they left and Rick must have gotten his translation wrong, because he thought he heard ‘so handsome together’. 

They stopped at a tipi near the center of the village not too long after that. Daryl called to it and a petite woman came out. She greeted Daryl with a warm smile and a brief hug. She looked at Rick with curious eyes, but Daryl caught her attention and shook his head aggressively. Her face fell for a few seconds before she brightened and offered some lunch to the two men. Daryl accepted for the two of them.

“She is...like my sister. Her name is Blue Flower,” Daryl said when Rick looked at him curiously. 

Daryl didn’t seem to mind when Blue Flower referred to him as ‘Squirrel’, unlike the man at the other village. As a matter of fact, he was more comfortable with this woman than he had been with any other person that Rick had seen him with, chatting about where he had been for the last week. 

After lunch Daryl thanked her and got up to leave. Rick followed because that seemed like what was expected of him, it wouldn’t be seemly to sit around with a woman alone if she wasn’t your family. Daryl wandered outside the village and into the woods, Rick trailing silently behind. They didn’t talk much, just taking in the quiet of the day as they checked snares and Daryl shot a few other small game.

That night as they sat around the Chief’s fire, the story of how the bear met his fate was told. Not by Rick or Daryl, but by the other men that had been there and seen the action. They surely made it sound a lot more exciting (and not so pants-wetting terrifying) than Rick would, with much gesturing and loud noises. One of them even pretended to be the bear in his dying throws, much to the delight of the children. Daryl kept his head down and only nodded or looked up when someone asked him a direct question. 

After the story had been told fifteen ways (and Rick was sure in at least one Daryl had somehow grown wings and  _ flown _ to Rick’s rescue) the Chief settled everyone down and became very solemn. A pipe was shared around the fire, Rick feeling honored and humbled to be allowed to join in this traditional ritual. 

Afterward, Chief Cliff Above the River brought out a bundle of fine fur and unwrapped it with much care,revealing a well-made necklace of bear claws. It must have been made of the claws from the three paws the other men had taken with them yesterday, from the bear that Daryl had killed. The Chief motioned for Daryl to come to him and Daryl reverently bent in front of the old man. After a few more words of praise for Daryl the old Chief put the bear claw necklace around his neck. 

Daryl embraced his Chief before looking around and catching Rick’s eyes. Rick wasn’t sure what he saw there, but it was something warm and comfortable, something unexpected. Whatever it was, it wasn’t unwelcome. He’d only known Daryl a short time and already he felt comfortable with the man. Almost as comfortable as if he were family. Like Carl or Judith. Or Lori. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you think the folks in the village know something that Rick doesn't?


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confusion on Rick's part and a little story from Daryl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to the wicked smart [KatyTheInspiredWorkaholic](%E2%80%9D), she catches all my boo-boos.

Rick woke the next morning from the best sleep he’d had in months, hell maybe even a year.  Back when he’d returned from turning Merle Dixon in, when he’d gotten home to see his family. When Lori’d told him she was pregnant , with eyes glowing  and full of happiness. 

The night before,  after Rick had had his fill of listening to all the different versions of how Daryl had saved his ass , he’d made eye contact with Daryl and motioned his head toward the tent. Daryl took the hint and said his goodnights around the fire. Rick followed after shortly. There must have been a joke at his expense because there was a burst of laughter as he left. Daryl was stomping ahead of him, so maybe he didn’t hear.

They didn’t go right to sleep. Daryl had built up the fire in his tent, Rick had checked on his trade goods. He still had plenty to trade at the next village and probably another before the would turn his attention to home. He’d missed out on some good furs because he had only brought one pack horse. He knew better now, next time he’d bring two more. And maybe Carl, he’d be twelve next summer. Old enough to go out on the trail with his father. 

Rick was still a little keyed up from the night’s activities so told Daryl stories about his family. Daryl didn’t say much, but Rick could tell he was listening by the way he would nod his head or pause in fletching an arrow to look up at Rick. It was hard telling Daryl about Lori, but Rick knew it was good to talk about her and not let her memory fade. Daryl frowned when Rick talked about Hershel and his daughter Beth, but chuckled when Rick told him about Carl’s crush on the girl. 

So much had changed since then and so much hadn’t. Lori was gone and there were new people living in his house, taking care of his family. But he was still out on a trail, that hadn’t changed. No matter how hard he would try, he’d always end up wandering far from home for some reason. But there was no Lori to come home to now. He didn’t remember when he fell asleep, but it was to the steady swipe of Daryl sharpening an arrow point. 

Rick was pulled from his thoughts when Daryl stirred from his sleep on the other side of the fire.  Maybe today he could get some answers from Daryl, try and figure out what the pull was that kept him here. It was obvious to Rick now that Daryl did not have a wife or children. The other people in the village treated him well enough, and some of the women seemed to have eyes for him, but Rick hadn’t seen anyone that stood out. 

But he would have to be careful, Daryl would clam up if he pushed too hard. He’d start with something easy, “I didn’t realize that the claws would be so important.”

Daryl grunted and rolled over to look at Rick. Rick had sat up and had a pile of furs around him. He’d gotten over-warm in the night because of all the layers and  had taken off his shirt. Rick blushed when he noticed that Daryl was staring at his chest. He probably wasn’t used to seeing a man with so much hair. He fished around in the furs until he found his shirt while he waited for Daryl to answer. 

“Bears are wise warriors. With a bear’s claws, I will get his wisdom.” Daryl said as his eyes trailed up to meet Rick’s eyes.

“Ah,” Rick nodded his head. He wasn’t sure Daryl would actually gain any wisdom by wearing bear claws, but they looked good around his neck and they were a visible reminder of his bravery and shrewdness. “I’d like to get on to the next village today if I could. Are you going to stay here or go with me? I’m afraid that bear might have a friend.”

Rick wasn’t worried about another bear. The one they’d killed was probably the only one for miles, tending its territory. He just needed more time alone with Daryl. And truth be told, Daryl could get him to the next village a lot faster than Hershel’s map, no matter how well drawn.

“I will go with you to the next village. The Chief may make a bad trade with you. He is good friend to the Chief from the first village. He will know you are not a good trader.” Daryl softened his criticism with a small smile. 

Rick supposed he deserved that. He smiled back and was about to ask when they could get going when he heard what sounded like a herd of the village children laughing outside the tent.

“Do those kids have nothing better to do than hang around and give me a hard time?” Rick asked with a chuckle.

Daryl shook his head and yelled out in Cheyenne for the children to go away. There was no malice in it, just the sound of someone who long suffered. Daryl was quite an anomaly in the  village . Not only because he was a white man, but because he lived alone. Usually several generations lived together or  at least  close together. Not like Daryl, alone and apart from the  center of the village . From what Rick had gathered, Daryl had no enemies in the tribe and all seem to treat him like a full member , so he must still travel with the tribe when they moved the village . 

Another mystery to add to the list. 

Rick left Daryl by the tipi to go check on Walker and Nick. He felt kinda bad for leaving them on their own with the tribe’s horses since yesterday. He couldn’t find them right away, but the village boy that was watching the horses pointed them out easily enough. They were munching grass, oblivious to all the other animals around them. Rick had worried for nothing.  

Walker nickered softly when Rick approached him, stretching his neck out in anticipation, headbutted Rick gently when he got close enough. “Sorry I left you so long , buddy. Got some more stuff to do and then we’ll be on our way.”

Nick seemed no worse for wear from the attack  from  two days  prior . Rick double checked his flank, but found no signs of injury. Nick was usually a nice steady horse, but he was simple. He would shy more than Walker around strange people and situations, but he seemed to have put the bear attack behind him.

After Rick was sure his horses were doing well, he went in search of Daryl to see if they could gather some food and other provisions before they left. Some flour for bread and flapjacks would be nice to have along with some oil or fat if they had it. Rick was sure between the two of them they could scare up plenty of game.

He’d almost made it back to Daryl’s tent when he was stopped by the Chief. The man had a smile on his face, so Rick wasn’t worried he had done anything wrong.

“You are friend of Squirrel?” 

“Yeah, I think so. He’s a good man.” Rick answered.

Fixing Rick with a steely eye he said, “Squirrel, he is special. Be kind to him.”

Rick tilted his head down to catch the old man’s eye, “I plan to.”

That must have been what Cliff Above the River wanted to hear because he smiled wide and pulled Rick into an awkward hug that he didn’t know what to do with. He had gotten many reactions from different tribesman, from anger to happiness, but never a full on hug. There were back slaps and everything. 

A sharp word from Daryl finally broke up the embrace, his face red and his eyes wide. An exchange of words in Cheyenne so fast that Rick couldn’t keep up with followed. The Chief looked confused as he gestured to Rick and then to Daryl’s tipi that was nearby. Daryl shook his head vigorously and motioned to the ring on Rick’s finger. 

The only thing Rick could figure was going on was maybe the Chief wanted to set Rick up with one of the women that were tanning hides that he’d met yesterday. Rick supposed he should be flattered, but he hadn’t given any indication that he was interested in any of the women. Hell, he’d spent all of his time with Daryl. So he had no  clue what would give the Chief the idea that he was looking for a wife.

Cliff Above the River finally threw up his hands and turned and walked away, clearly disgusted with Daryl. Rick sure hoped he wasn’t a cause for friction in the happy village. He looked around to see how the other villagers were reacting, but they didn’t seem bothered one bit by the exchange that had just taken place. As a matter of fact, many of them were smiling conspiratorially at him. There must be something going between the Chief and Daryl that he didn’t know about. 

“Let’s go,” Daryl huffed at him.

Rick gave a short nod and followed Daryl to his tipi to gather his things, he was as eager to get going as Daryl. He was pretty sure the next village was a bit further away than just a day’s ride and they were burning daylight. 

Daryl helped Rick load up Nick with all the trade goods and hides that he had. Rick then saddled Walker as Daryl whistled and a horse came to him at the sound, an average plains horse in stature, but a work of art in his coloring. The horse’s face was white for the most part, except large patches of brown around his eyes and the rest was the same with random patches dotted all along his body. His tail had both white and brown hair cascading down. Daryl had been walking the whole time Rick had interacted with him, so it was a bit of a surprise to see the horse. But then again, Daryl had been good at surprising Rick.

They left without much fanfare, the whole of the village back to their cook fires for breakfast. Daryl led the way North and West. The next village they were going to was larger than the other three Rick had been too. There was a good chance it would be his last stop, considering that Nick was already weighed down with furs and the way Daryl had talked about the Chief of the next village, Chief Little Fox, so this leg of the journey might be his last chance to convince Daryl to come back with him. 

Rick filled the silence by asking Daryl to tell him the Cheyenne word for as many things around them as he could find. _Aénȯhevóhkóóhe_ meant jackrabbit, _mé'hahtse_ meant beard or mustache ( a word he’d often heard in the villages), and a good ten different words for shoe. The best, though, was _mémėstȧho'tá_ which meant shitty hot. They laughed about that for most of the day. 

“Why do they call you Squirrel?” Rick finally got up the nerve to ask.

Daryl was quiet so long Rick was afraid he’d really pissed Daryl off. They must have rode on in silence for twenty minutes before Daryl answered, “When The People found me I was in a tree. I was yelling and cursing them. I was very small, but brave. So they called me Squirrel. When it was time for me to become a man, I called myself Short Arrow. But some still call me Squirrel.”

The thing that disturbed Rick the most about that story was the part about being found in a tree. Was Daryl hiding from a raid? It hadn’t been unusual for the tribes of the plains to conduct raids on the white settlers. The Cheyenne had fought against the Army not too long ago, but Daryl was too old to have been caught up in that as a young boy. Daryl wouldn’t tell him anymore about it anytime soon, Rick knew. It had been like pulling teeth to get this much. So he’d bide his time and wait some more. 

Daryl stopped them at the top of a small rise, a creek running down the hill a bit. Tonight would be the first night that they would camp together in one camp. They had just shared Daryl’s tipi back at the village, but this was their first time out on the trail alone. So Daryl had as much say as where they camped as Rick did.

“Why don’t we camp down there?” Rick said as he pointed to a clear spot next to the water. 

Motioning up at the sky Daryl said, “Rain tonight. It will flood out that spot.”

Rick looked up at the nearly clear sky and then looked back at Daryl, “You sure?”

Daryl nodded his head in that way of his before getting off his horse. Rick sighed and followed suit. There really wasn’t any point in arguing. So he’d have to trudge a little further to get water, at least he knew he wouldn’t drown in his sleep.

When he got back with his cookpot full of water Daryl had the tent already set up. Rick really hadn’t used his tent much, either sleeping under the stars or in a tipi, but if Daryl thought it was going to rain, it was a good idea. Except it only slept one, and he was pretty sure that Daryl didn’t bring a tent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, poor Oblivious!Rick. I love him so.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick and Daryl sit around the campfire! And then some stuff and thangs happen (again).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys should go thank [KatyTheInspiredWorkaholic](%E2%80%9D), because I seriously almost forgot to post. And tell her she is awesome, because she is.

After they’d finished setting up camp it was too early to turn in after dinner, so Rick dug out his small bottle of Kentucky bourbon. It had been a gift he’d gotten in the days after Lori had died. He wasn’t sure now who had given it to him, but he knew it wasn’t Hershel. Maybe he’d picked it up in town from one of the folks that Lori went to church with on his way out.

He would only take a few sips, he wasn’t planning on getting drunk. Lori’d have his hide if he’d ever gotten drunk when she was alive. But by his reckoning, it was about a year ago that he’d come home and she’d told him she was expecting. It was a bittersweet memory.

Daryl refused an offer of a sip, so Rick had another. He missed the kids. Wondered if little Judith was sitting up on her own yet, if she was teething. He looked over at Daryl and asked himself yet again if this man was worth being away from his family. 

“How did you end up with the Cheyenne?” Rick figured he would just keep asking until Daryl answered. 

“They took me in. I had nowhere to go.” Daryl said as he gazed into the fire.

“When you were a boy?”

“Yes.”

Well, that was a start. It wasn’t unusual for tribes to pick up boys that were alone out on the frontier. Sometimes by force, but Daryl certainly didn’t seem like he was being forced to do anything.

Rick took another swig and put the bottle down. He noticed that Daryl only spoke when he had to. That was odd considering  Rick had to bribe Merle to shut the hell up when he was taking him in a year ago.

“That was something, ya know. Killing that bear like you did. I thought I was a goner.” Rick smiled at the memory.

“We were hunting for him. He liked to eat horses.” 

“Never heard of a bear that would eat a horse!” Rick clapped Daryl on the shoulder. 

Daryl gave a small smile, but didn’t say anything. Rick let his hand linger longer than what was  probably  necessary, but Daryl didn’t seem to mind. 

“Why won’t you go back? You have no wife or children. You live alone.” Rick tried again.

Daryl turned to Rick before asking, “Why do you think I want a wife and children?”   

“ ‘S’what all men want.” The bourbon might have been catching up with Rick. Maybe he took too big of a swig that last time.

“Not all men want those things, Rick.”

Rick squeezed Daryl’s shoulder, “But it would make you happy.” 

Daryl turned to Rick and gave him a piercing look, “I am not unhappy.”

Rick rubbed the hand that was still on Daryl’s back, trying to get Daryl to understand somehow. “How do you know?”

Daryl  looked away and took a long breath before turning to  back to Rick  once more . “I am not unhappy without a wife. I do not want a wife.”

“Ok, ok. But wouldn’t you rather live in a civilized society?” Rick let his hand slide off Daryl’s back. 

“Do you call  The P eople uncivilized?” 

Rick sighed heavily, “No, but wouldn’t you like to sleep in a bed instead of on the ground? And wouldn’t you like to go to a play or a rodeo?”

“I do not mind sleeping on the ground. And I can go to a pow wow to see  such things .” Daryl insisted.

“But..”

Daryl jumped up, “Enough! There is nothing that I want there. All I want is here.”

Rick stood up too. “How do you know that? At least come back with me to visit with your brother.”

Daryl took a step closer to Rick, his arms outstretched. “He does not care about me! He left me. And I cannot live there. I would not be accepted!” 

“I know it’s tough for Indians and half breeds, but you’re not either one of those. You’d just have to cut your hair and get real clothes.”

“You do not understand! It is not how I look, it is who I am that they would not accept.”

“I don’t understand Daryl! Tell me.” Rick was quickly losing the pleasant buzz that the whiskey had given him. 

“I have told you, you do not listen!” 

“Just because you don’t want a wife? That doesn’t make any sense.” Rick was starting to think the conversation was going in circles. 

“You will never understand.” Daryl shook his head and looked away.

“Make me understand! Show me. I want to know.” Daryl still wouldn’t look at Rick, so Rick put his hand on Daryl’s shoulder again, “Please.”

“Rick, you ask too much.” Daryl’s voice trembled.

“Please,” Rick asked again, tilting his head to the side in hopes of catching Daryl’s eye.

Daryl bit his lip and turned to Rick, meeting his eyes. Rick hadn’t really realized that they were the same height, not until just this moment when Daryl was standing so close. So close that all Daryl had to do was lean in a mere fraction of space and he was touching Rick’s face. And then Daryl’s lips were on Rick’s, feather soft and slow. Rick gasped in shock, Daryl took advantage and deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue in.

Rick was...confused. Not just that Daryl was kissing Rick, but that Rick wasn’t stopping him. And he didn’t resist when Daryl fused their bodies together and put his hands in Rick’s hair. He wasn’t sure who moaned either. But when he felt the pressure of Daryl’s arousal at his thigh, it was too much. 

Moving his hands that had been hanging uselessly at his side up to Daryl’s arms, he gently pulled until Daryl let go. Rick then took a step back, breaking the kiss. There was a moment where they just stared at each other. And then everything clicked in Rick’s head.

Why Daryl wouldn’t go back, why he didn’t want a wife. And why he was still here with Rick when he could have left him long ago to be eaten by a damn bear. It was all so clear to him now.

“Daryl, I’m sorry. I can’t...I’m not…”

Daryl bit his lip hard and nodded his head. “I know.” 

Rick felt like a snake in the grass. He could almost see the heartbreak in Daryl’s eyes. Here Rick had thought he’d made a friend and instead he’d led this poor guy on. 

A wet splash landed on Rick’s nose as the rain that Daryl predicted started.

Daryl turned away from Rick, “Get in the tent Rick, I will check the horses.”

Rick thought to argue, but he didn’t have anything to say. What could he say that Daryl would want to hear? He had nothing, and all his arguments for Daryl to go back with him dried up with that kiss. Daryl was right, he would never be accepted. 

He ducked into the tent as the rain intensified, wondering how they would both sleep in the small space. Rick took his boots, coat, and hat off before wrapping himself in his blankets, the bourbon and the events of the evening catching up to him. He was going to wait up for Daryl, but sleep caught him unawares and he was out before knew it.

He woke sometime in the middle of the night with a raging need to piss. Rick fumbled to the front of the tent and almost went out before he noticed the rain still pouring down. He would have to improvise then. No way was Rick going out in that to relieve himself. He was just adjusting his pants when he thought he heard a bottle clink. That’s when he remembered Daryl was supposed to be around somewhere.

Cursing to himself, he fumbled around for his boots and coat, his hat was shoved into the corner and required some twisting to fetch it. Taking a deep breath he rushed out into the rain.

“Daryl!” He hollered.

“Short Arrow!”

Rick frowned. Daryl sounded a bit drunk. Surely he didn’t get into the bourbon? But why wouldn’t he? Rick had just rejected him.

“Fine! Short Arrow! Where the hell are you?”

“With my horse! He loves me!” Daryl was most certainly drunk.

Rick sighed and trudged over the wet ground, his boots squelching and his hat dripping. He hated dealing with drunks. Especially love sick drunks.

It was hard to see in the pitch black darkness, the rain making it even worse, but he could make out the darker shapes of the horses as he got closer. Daryl’s was slightly smaller than Rick’s two, mostly because it was a wild caught plains horse. It was a tough little thing though. Even Walker didn’t mess with him.

Daryl was sitting under his horse, shielded from the weather.  “Dar..Short Arrow, come in out of the rain.” Rick said.

“I am fine. Roamer protects me.” To be honest, Roamer looked bored with the whole ordeal.

“You’ll catch your death if you stay out here any longer.” Rick pleaded.

“Don’t care.” Surely the man wasn’t pouting. 

“Well, I do.” Rick reached down and hauled Daryl out from under his horse. Daryl stumbled, but let himself be drug out.

He was soaked to the skin. His hair was plastered to his face and his buckskin was hanging heavy on his frame. Rick would have to help him out of those wet things, there was no way that he could stay in them.

It was awkward. Rick didn’t want to drag all those wet clothes into the tent, but he couldn’t let Daryl stand out in the rain to take his clothes off. They ended up being half in and half out. Daryl fighting him the whole time. 

“Don’t wan’ to,” he mumbled.

“Tough. You’re sopping wet and you’ll catch a chill. I gotta wrap you in a blanket.”

It was like peeling a large banana trying to get Daryl’s clothes off. It didn’t help that Daryl was like a ragdoll, flopping around and being more hindrance than help. It must have taken ten minutes to get his top pulled off.  

Daryl sighed and dug his head into Rick’s neck, “Smell good. Always smell good.”

Rick bit his lip. He didn’t want to encourage Daryl. Didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but the guy was drunk, so it wasn’t like he could do anything about it.

Rick could feel the goosepimples raise up on Daryl as the cold air hit his wet, near naked body. He’d have to hurry up and get him in that blanket. Rick would never forgive himself if Daryl really did get sick.

He shoved the top half of Daryl down onto the floor of the tent and then worked on getting Daryl’s pants off. The laces of his pants were near impossible to untie, rain soaked and swollen as they were. Rick was considering getting out his knife to cut them when one finally gave way. Daryl wasn’t helping, squirming like he was. 

“Jus’ leave me be. Don’t need your help.” Daryl’s hands weakly pushed at Rick’s fingers.

“I’m almost done.” Rick said as he got hold of the top of Daryl’s pants and gave a hard tug. 

Of course the pants stayed right where they were and Rick fell backwards, his head falling out of the tent and getting soaked. He sputtered as he drug himself back up, flinging his hat off to the back of the tent. Daryl had turned on his side, holding his middle laughing. 

“Shut up or I’ll leave you in these pants and you’ll get so galded you’ll walk funny for a month.” Rick snarled at him.

But Daryl laying on his side gave Rick the idea to pull the front and the back at the same time. It worked as long as Rick shimmied them instead of trying to yank. There was a bit of trouble when he got to Daryl’s feet and had to take off the moccasins first, but it worked out. 

Now he had a wet, naked man in his tent that he needed to get warmed up. Because now that Daryl was in the tent, he was noticeably shivering. Rick wrapped Daryl up in his blanket and used his own shirt that he’d taken off to try and dry Daryl’s hair. It was a bit awkward in the small tent, Rick was almost straddling Daryl to get to his head. But he managed to get Daryl’s head from dripping to merely wet.

“Ain’t fair.” Daryl mumbled into Rick’s chest, his warm breath ghosting over Rick. 

“What ain’t fair?” Rick asked.

But Daryl didn’t reply. He’d snuggled into Rick’s blanket and let out a soft sigh. Rick did his own sigh and tried to lay a respectable distance from the naked man in his tent, but there really wasn’t enough room so he resigned himself to just trying not to touch any intimate parts.

It was going to be a long night.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, raise your hand if that was unexpected. I cannot wait for ya'll to read the next chapter!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who's gay? Not Rick! Nope, nada, not happening. Daryl is sure fit though...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the lovely and inspiring [KatyTheInspiredWorkaholic](%E2%80%9D) for her diligent beta work. 
> 
> Happy Friday! I hope ya'll enjoy this chapter.

No matter which way Rick turned or curled in on himself, there was a part of Daryl touching him. An arm, a foot, a thigh, and Rick would have thought Daryl was doing it on purpose except for the steady , soft snores. Rick finally stuffed some blanket between the two of them because the last time he turned over Daryl’s hand had landed somewhere that it really shouldn’t. 

Rick was happy that Daryl was thoroughly drunk and that he himself was still partially drunk, he could claim he didn’t remember anything in the morning. And maybe Daryl wouldn’t remember either. He hoped Daryl wouldn’t be too hungover in the morning, Rick didn’t want to have to deal with all that business.  

He finally drifted off to sleep after wedging himself in the side of the tent and giving up on the blanket. It was warm enough in the little tent with the two of them anyhow. He dreamed of summer breezes and big skies and his name whispered on the wind.

It was early. Very early. The time of the morning when it was light enough to see, but everything was still gray. He usually didn’t wake quite this early, but something had woken him. He lay still with his eyes closed to see if he could suss it out. Then he felt it, a warm breath on his neck. And he also noticed the arm around his chest, the leg thrown over his own. The erection sticking him in the hip.  

Now, he could jump up and yell and cause a commotion, but there really wasn’t room in the tent, and Daryl was still asleep. So it wasn’t like he’d done it on purpose. And it wasn’t uncomfortable, just a might awkward. Especially since he was sporting his own morning wood. Which was perfectly natural and had nothing to do with the naked man draped all over him breathing on his neck. 

Rick still had a lot of things to think about (besides what Hershel would look like naked in hopes of losing his erection). Like how he hadn’t notice that Daryl was fey. Or that it didn’t seem to be a big secret among the tribe. Or (and this was the big one) why Daryl seemed to think Rick was someone to want. And why the hell Rick was still laying in the tent with said man wrapped around him.

He sighed and very carefully tried to remove himself from the land octopus that he was currently wrapped up with. But sleeping Daryl would have none of it and clung tighter. Whispering something in Cheyenne into Rick’s neck. 

Rick shivered involuntarily, his neck was very sensitive. All Lori’d ever had to do was a run a finger down it and he was ready to go. He redoubled his efforts to get loose, but Daryl just clung tighter, his body now completely flush with Rick’s. Daryl went from just whispering to running his lips over Rick’s neck. And then to an actual open mouth kiss. 

“Smell so good.” Daryl breathed into Rick. “So beautiful.”

Rick’s chest was heaving now. His mind and body fighting his confusion. He wasn’t into men, really, but it had been so long since someone had touched him his body just reacted. And even though he knew Daryl was asleep and didn’t know what he was doing, he was past just letting Daryl sleep. 

“Daryl.”

The low moan into Rick’s neck and the hand that trailed down his chest, catching in his curls, made all the work thinking about Hershel go right out the window. The way Daryl’s hand caught in Rick’s chest hairs as it made a lazy trail to the top of his pants made Rick take in a sharp breath. 

“Jesus. Daryl!” Rick gasped out as Daryl boldly stoked Rick’s erection through his pants.

“Rick?” Daryl mumbled in Rick’s ear, his hand still firmly attached to Rick’s privates.

“Daryl, please wake up.” Rick didn’t want Daryl to startle and maybe do something that would result in an injury for him.

“Mmwake.”

“Great. Can you kindly remove yourself from my person?”

There was some movement from Daryl, nudges and hand roaming before he went completely still, “Rick?”

“Yes, Daryl?”

“Mémėse!” Daryl shot up and scooted as far from Rick as he could in the four feet of space that the tent provided. Rick almost diverted his eyes in time to not see Daryl’s erection, but he was too slow and got an eye full of what looked to be enough to rival his own.

Daryl was about to say something else, but jerked the blanket around himself when he noticed he was naked. His face paled in the wan light.

“Where are my clothes?”   


It was Rick’s turn to loose his color. Daryl’s clothes were currently in a heap, outside, in the rain. Daryl must have picked up on that fairly easily because his face went from white to red in an instant.

He let out a string of curses in Cheyenne that Rick couldn’t keep up with as he tried to maneuver to the flap without losing his blanket. Daryl’s shoulders drooped as he pulled back the flap to the hard downfall of rain, his clothes were a sodden, discolored mess. He picked through them until he found his headband with it’s sad, broken eagle feather. Sighing, he sat back on his heels, not bothered by the fact that his head was dripping with water. 

“You were already soaked when I found you.” Rick said in his defense. 

Daryl nodded his head while his hands worried the headband, pieces of beads coming loose and falling to the ground. With another deep sigh, he dropped it and tossed the blanket from his shoulders before pushing back the flap once again and walking naked into the rain.

Rick slipped on his boots and coat, not bothering with a shirt, and followed Daryl out. He was worried what the distraught man would do, but Rick easily found him near a tree, taking a piss. Rick changed direction and found his own tree to water. No need to make things more awkward.

The horses were next on his morning agenda. Walker was fine under his oiled canvas and just required a bit of walking on his lead to stretch his legs. Nick on the other hand, stamped his hooves and shook his head hard. He did not like the rain. It took Rick far longer to get the smaller horse walked and fed. He at least moved them under a tree with wide branches so they wouldn’t have the rain pounding them all day. 

Daryl, Rick noticed, had found a loin cloth to tie around his waist. But other than that he was pretty much naked as he tended to his own horse. Rick watched as Daryl checked his horse’s hooves and ran his hands over the dappled stallion. The rain running down Daryl highlighted the  way his arms were thick with muscles, his shoulders broad and firm, his stomach flat. And while he had some hair on his chest, it was nothing compared to Rick’s. 

He was like watching clouds move across the sky - slow, steady, quiet. No wasted movements, no unnecessary noise. A hushed efficiency that Rick was in awe of. The hard slap Daryl delivered to his horse broke Rick’s trance.

He blinked at Daryl in surprise as the horse ran off. 

“He will be back when I need him.” Daryl said with a shrug of his  broad  shoulders.

Rick nodded his head, Walker would probably do the same, but he had his doubts about Nick.

He didn’t really want to go back into the claustrophobic tent, but with the rain coming down the way it was, there was no way he could stay out. He was pretty wet now and the mud was squishing up above his boots as he walked. The tent was the only option.

It was a good thing Daryl had insisted that they put the tent up on top of a hill and then put down a layer of grasses under it, the rain was staying out for the most part, as long as they kept the flap closed. Which made it dim in the little canvas room. Rick would be climbing the walls if they didn’t find something to keep his mind occupied. Maybe Daryl would want to tell him how he ended up with the Cheyenne.

Daryl came into the tent a few minutes later, carrying his buffalo hide pack. He rooted around in it until he came up with a vest like top and another pair of buckskin pants. He gave Rick a long look until Rick figured out he wanted a bit of privacy. Rick turned his head and put a hand over his eyes while Daryl quickly shucked his loin cloth and put on his dry pants and top.

Daryl’s head was still dripping wet, so Rick tossed him a rag that he pulled from his own pack. Daryl accepted it with a grunt and Rick watched as Daryl vigorously dried his hair, the muscles in his arms flexing with the motion.

When Daryl was done he picked up the discarded headband to inspect it. His whole demeanor seemed dejected. He paid closer attention to the broken feather, running his fingers over it again and again.

“We can get you a new one at the next village.” Rick suggested.

Daryl’s eyes darted to Rick’s, anger shining out in the gloom. “ _ We  _ cannot get a new feather at the next village. It is not so easy as picking a feather up off the ground.”

“Well, I know eagle feathers are harder to come by, but surely the next village will have some.”

“You should not talk about things you know nothing about.”  Daryl sliced through the air with the hand that wasn’t holding his feather. 

“Tell me then.” Rick said in a calm voice.

Daryl hesitated before answering, “I had to earn it.”

Rick waited for Daryl to continue, afraid if he asked too many questions Daryl would clam up.

“You earned it by being brave, right?”

Several moments passed as Daryl played with the eagle feather. 

“That old bear, the one we killed, he was chasing a boy on the other side of the river. The river was fast and high from the rain. The boy’s mother cried out to the bear not to kill her son, but the bear was hungry and mean.”

“What was the boy doing on the other side of the river?” Rick ventured.

Daryl gave a half smile, “He thought he could count coup on the bear.”

Rick shook his head at the folly of children. He could see Carl doing something just as stupid so as to be seen as a man.

“Roamer, he does not like that old bear. He ran to the river, I caught him, but I could not stop him. We made it across the river, the boy was still running, but was tired. The bear was close when we reached the boy. Roamer was ready to fight the bear, but I told him the boy needed to be safe.”

“You saved the boy from the bear?”

“I would have shot him if I had my bow, but I did not.”

“It must have excited  you to get another chance when he was attacking my camp.”

“I did not wish to kill him for vengeance. He was old and would not have lasted the winter. He knew and was angry. I helped him.”

Rick couldn’t argue with that. “So what will you need to do to replace your feather?”

Daryl sighed softly, “I do not know. I will have to speak to the ma'heónėhetane at the next village. He may decide I do not deserve to have it replaced.”  

“Why?”

“Because I was weak and drank your liquor.” Daryl ran a hand across his eyes. Rick could see the deep sadness there and couldn’t help but feel responsible.

“I am sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you to talk about something you are ashamed of.”

“I am not ashamed. It is who I am. Your people should be ashamed for not  accepting all like their God tells them to.” 

“He is your God too.” Rick said.

“He is not.” Daryl replied.

There was a steely look in Daryl’s eyes, it wasn’t worth angering him to carry on the conversation. 

“The scars, on your back, did you get them from doing the Sun Dance? To show your bravery?” Rick had seen similar scars on some of the Cheyenne that he had worked with in Army during his scouting days. 

“I told you not to speak of things you do not understand.” Daryl said angrily.

“I know people who have done it. They told me all about it.”

Daryl tossed the feather to the side and crawled to the flap of the tent, “I have not.”

And he was out in the rain again, leaving behind a confused and chagrined Rick.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, Rick, Rick, Rick...


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl gets pissed and wet. And, well, Rick just can't have that, now can he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my wonderfully patient and sleepy beta, [KatyTheInspiredWorkaholic](%E2%80%9D). She is a treasure like no other.

Rick swore under his breath as he realized that he’d deeply offended Daryl and that he was going to get wet again. Pulling on his rain slicker again and slipping on his boots, he crawled out of the tent out into the rain.

“Daryl!”

“Daryl!”

“Short Arrow, damn it!"

“Fine! Short Arrow!”

“What?”

Daryl materialized behind Rick looking pissed and drenched.

“Come back inside,” Rick motioned to the tent.

Daryl crossed his arms over his chest. “Why? So you can insult me again?” 

“No, so we don’t catch our death out in this damn rain!” Rick said as he stomped to the tent and held the flap  open  so Daryl would go in.

After giving Rick a long hard stare, Daryl climbed into the dark tent, Rick right behind him. Daryl then sat sullen on his side of the tent, waiting for Rick to talk.

Rick tilted his head to show Daryl he was sincere. “I didn’t know I was insulting you. I thought I was talking about your bravery.”

Daryl bit his lip and was quiet for a moment, but then nodded his head before answering. “I have not done the Sun Dance. I am not a Cheyenne warrior who needs to show his bravery.”

Rick paused in taking off his boots. “I don’t understand.”

“I am not Cheyenne. They accepted me and allow me to live with them, but I am not one of The People.”

“So you aren’t one of them?” Rick was puzzled, “You live with them. You call one your sister.” 

Daryl waved that off, “She calls me brother, but she is different.”

Rick shook his head, “I don’t think they feel that way about you Daryl.”

Daryl looked at the floor as Rick shucked his coat and shirt. “They are only kind to me. It is their way.”

“Then come back with me. Come back to see your brother.” Rick pleaded with his eyes and his words.

“No. I do not wish to see him. And there is nothing for me there. Why do I have to keep telling you this?” Daryl gestured at Rick  in agitation .

Rick put his hands up  placatingly , “You’re right. I’m sorry. Why don’t we eat a bite. I’ve got some jerky if you want some.”

Daryl gave a short nod and pulled some berries and nuts from his own bag. They ate in silence, listening to the rain pour down on the canvas above their heads. 

Since there wasn’t much else to do in the cramped space, Rick laid down on his side, thinking to sleep a bit. His pants rubbed something awful though on account of them being wet, so he took them off as well and pulled a blanket over himself, falling asleep in just a few minutes.

He woke sometime later to see Daryl laying right next to him, shivering. He hadn’t taken off his wet clothes like Rick had. Out of stubbornness or what, Rick didn’t know. 

“Damn it Daryl. You are bound and determined to get sick.” Rick said with a  tired sigh. “Let’s get you out of those wet things, ok?”

Daryl didn’t answer, just looked at Rick through squinted eyes. He’d tried to curl in on himself to hold some warmth, but by now he was so cold his lips were quivering with it. Rick figured that was permission enough.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” He pulled one of Daryl’s arms far enough out that he pull the vest off and then repeated on the other side, Daryl’s arms immediately crossing back over his chest.

Rick tried not to think about how this was the second time in less than a whole day that he would be taking off Daryl’s pants for him. This time it wasn’t dark enough that Rick wouldn’t see anything. But this was his friend that needed him, so Rick sucked it up and worked on untying the swollen leather ties. 

He was so intent on the task at hand he didn’t realize that he had straddled Daryl, naked, his head right above Daryl’s crotch and his fingers intimately close. Not until Daryl’s soft, “Rick. Please.”

“Almost done. There!” Rick said with a satisfied crow as the tie came undone. He then worked quickly at removing another pair of sodden buckskin from Daryl’s legs. Maybe Daryl had a thing for being chaffed, Rick didn’t know. 

Once the pants were off, Rick rooted around and found his last dry shirt to rub some of the dampness from Daryl’s legs, and maybe massage some warmth back into him before the cold got to him more than it already had . He worked his way up, getting frustrated at the way Daryl wouldn’t lie still, but was squirming and trying to pull his legs away.  Rick was worried Daryl would get a chill if he didn’t get dry and warm.

Rick threw a leg over Daryl and was now straddling him, still working the shirt over the shivering man beneath him. Rick studiously looked away from Daryl’s private parts and focused on drying  his  torso, arms and chest. His strokes slowed down as he noticed the trail of barely there hair running down the center of Daryl’s chest and how broad Daryl’s shoulders really were. When he rubbed down Daryl’s arms (Daryl  squirming and weakly  trying to pull away the whole time) he noticed how well developed they were. And he could just make out the scent of Daryl in the enclosed space , clean, like the creek.

He was leaning far over Daryl trying to dry his hair when Daryl's  words  finally got through to him.

“Rick! Stop.” Daryl pleaded.

Rick’s eyes shot to Daryl’s in question, wondering if he was in pain , or if Rick had been rubbing too hard . But what he saw was not what he expected. Daryl’s cheeks were flushed, his mouth open and panting, his hands pushing at Rick’s. 

And then Rick noticed that he was still naked and had just spent the last few minutes stripping and rubbing down another man. Another man who had shown by deeds, if not words, that he was attracted to Rick. A man who was trying very hard to hide his erection. 

Rick’s mouth went dry as he realized that he wasn’t upset. Or maybe just not put off by it as much as he ought to be. Daryl was an attractive man and for him there was no taboo. And it have been over a year since Rick had done anything more than take himself in hand. 

He swallowed, trying to create moisture in his mouth. The tent silent except for the rain beating on the canvas and their heavy breathing. Rick wished it wasn’t so dim, he was curious to see Daryl’s eyes. See if they were shining with desire. His own were filled with surprise. He hadn’t expected the rush of want when he noticed Daryl’s reaction. 

“I…” Rick started.

“Just..stop.” Daryl said.

Rick’s eyes traveled from the top of Daryl’s head down the long line of his neck, across the breadth of shoulders, the heaving of his chest, further past the flat stomach to where the two of them were touching. Daryl hard under his hands. And Rick couldn’t believe it, but he was growing hard too. 

“I don’t know...” Rick was confused. He stomach was a tied up knot. The part of his brain that should be telling him this was wrong was silent and the rest of him screamed for just a touch. Surely it was just because it had been so very long since he’d been with Lori. “...how.”

“What?” Daryl whispered.

Rick licked his lips, “I...we’re…” he sighed  shakily . “Look, I’m not sure what is going on, but I think…” he clenched his fists, “I’ve never...” he wasn’t sure what to say or do or even if he wanted to find out what would happen if he walked down this path. 

Daryl bit his lip and exhaled in a long slow breath before sitting up and putting his hands on Rick’s arms. “I can show you. I will make it good for you. I will stop if you tell me to.”

The rain was the only sound as they stared at each other, Rick’s stomach tightening into a sharp ball of desire unlike anything he’d ever felt. It seemed like he was outside of his body, like the world was moving slow and fast at the same time. He did want this. And he wanted it with Daryl, but he didn’t know why. And he didn’t know why he didn’t stop it, roll over and say he was sorry.  Pretend nothing had happened. 

Nodding his head, he let his hands drift down to where their bodies met. But Daryl put his out and stayed Rick’s hand.

“No, I will show you. You’ll see.” He said as he carefully rotated their bodies so that Rick was now lying prone on the tent floor, his whole body exposed to Daryl just like Daryl had just been for Rick.

Daryl’s hand was hesitant as he touched Rick’s neck and then trailed ever so softly along Rick’s collar bone. Rick shivered at the barely there touch, but Daryl wasn’t finished. He let his hand run all over Rick, just like Rick had done when he was drying Daryl. Instead of warming him up though, it gave him the shivers. Daryl smirked and increased the pressure of his hand.

He seemed to be mapping Rick’s body, taking stock and learning what made Rick tick. Like when Daryl touched the spot between Rick’s neck and shoulder made Rick suck in a breath. And when Rick’s nipples were grazed he arched into the touch. Or when Daryl ventured to the spot under Rick’s arm, Rick let it fall away from his body so that Daryl could touch more. 

Once Daryl had traced all of Rick’s upper body, he moved down to where Rick’s cock now stood proud and hard. Daryl ran a finger around it, but didn’t quite touch, instead moving to the apex of Rick’s thigh and on down his leg. 

Rick didn’t know what to do with his own hands, so they lay beside him, rhythmically tightening into fists as Daryl drove him crazy with his touch. He couldn’t look at Daryl, it was too much, so he stared at the top of the tent. His breathing still shallow from the onslaught of sensations Daryl was creating with just his fingers.

He jumped and shifted his body when Daryl’s questing hand dipped between his legs. Daryl seemed to understand and moved his hand back up to Rick’s cock. He sucked in a hard breath as Daryl took him in hand. 

Still holding onto Rick, Daryl let his body drape over him, their faces only a hair apart. Daryl must have seen the panic in Rick’s eyes, because instead of kissing him, he let his head fall to the juncture of Rick’s neck and shoulder. 

Daryl experimentally licked and when no retreat occurred, he nipped and then kissed the spot. Rick hissed, so Daryl did it again all the while slowly stroking Rick’s cock. Rick began bucking into Daryl’s fist as Daryl twisted his hand just so.  

Daryl abandoned Rick’s neck in search of a nipple, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses along the way. Rick’s body arched up, reaching for more, his mouth open and moaning. Daryl obliged by sucking hard at the stiffened nub. Rick put a hand on the back of Daryl’s head, trying to hold him there or pull him off, he wasn’t sure. 

The only sounds in the little tent now are Rick’s moans and Daryl’s slurping and biting. Daryl was putting his mouth on places that Lori never had. Sure, she’d kissed him, kissed his neck, but never his nipples or across his chest, or dear lord, under his arm. 

Suddenly it wasn’t so slow and exploratory, Daryl’s study of Rick’s body. Now it was hard and fierce, like Daryl wanted to get as much done as possible in a short amount of time. Rick’s body bowed up, reaching for more of Daryl, wanting the scorching touch all over his body. The hand on his cock was like nothing he’d ever done to himself, certainly nothing that Lori would have done. She had always shied away from touching him there, so this feeling was totally new. 

It wasn’t much longer before Rick could feel himself draw up in preparation for release. Daryl must have sensed it too, because he clamped down on a nipple and sucked hard while his hand squeezed Rick’s cock in just the right way. 

Rick came with a shout, his hearing and sight leaving him for the duration. He felt nothing but the pleasure of his orgasm, the most explosive one he’d ever had. When he could sense his surroundings again he could feel his come cooling on his chest, neck, and chin.  

Slitting his eyes open he could see Daryl above him on his knees, cock in hand, eyes trained on the  wet  trail  across  Rick's  skin . Daryl was working himself hard at the sight and soon was coming, shooting all over Rick. Daryl’s head fell back as he finished, his breathing hard. He was stunning with a fine sheen of sweat glistening on his broad shoulders and his cock still hard and impressive. 

Their eyes locked as Daryl caught his breath. Rick had never felt like this before. Sure, he’d had orgasms and a deep emotional connection with Lori, but this was a new feeling, one that he couldn’t quite come to terms with. Because this, this moment with Daryl, was so much better than  even making love to Lori had  ever  been. And it scared him to death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that just happened. Will it happen again? 
> 
> Lol, to be honest, it will. **But** how much angst will be involved?


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, Daryl is a happy little clam right about now. How do you think Rick is faring?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really, truly, [KatyTheInspiredWorkaholic](%E2%80%9D) is a gift.

The rain finally stopped just as the sun was drifting behind the mountains. Rick had left Daryl sleeping in the tent and was now standing in the shadow of a tree, Walker huffing behind him for attention. 

It was a bit chilly out, so he’d put on his pants and boots and thrown his slicker and hat on, but hadn’t bothered with a shirt. They were all wet and anyway his chest was still burning from where Daryl had marked him. He was just running a hand over a nipple that he was now more aware of than ever before, when he felt Daryl walking up behind him. 

He couldn’t turn and meet Daryl’s eyes, afraid the regret would show. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the betrayal to Lori or the shame of lying with another man. Rick had never thought too much about it before, he knew men that did. Hell, he was positive that Aaron and Eric were that way.

But it wasn’t something he’d ever imagined himself doing. Even the thought of sleeping with another woman was foreign. And then there was Daryl. Daryl that was so different from any other person that he’d ever met. Daryl who was clearly smitten with Rick. Daryl who was standing in front of Rick with just that small loin cloth wrapped around his hips.

“If the rain is done, we can try and move on to the next village tomorrow. Maybe get you a new feather.”

Daryl was standing so close to Rick that he could feel the other man’s breath ghosting across his cheek. “You are all right?” he asked, a hand reaching out, but not touching.

Rick gave a short nod of his head, “Ain’t never done anything like that before.”

“You liked it.” It wasn’t a question.

Rick gave another nod, not trusting himself to speak.

Daryl leaned in closer, his mouth next to Rick’s ear, “There is more. So much more that I could show you.”

Rick jerked his head around to look at Daryl, his eyes wide with shock. Daryl’s lip curled into a tight smile as he leaned in to kiss Rick. But he tilted his head so that Daryl kissed jaw instead of lips. It was still almost too much, closing his eyes, Rick turned and stepped away.

“We’ll have to stay here another day or two to dry out. Can’t see the trail being all that easy right now. Gonna have to string up our clothes and get ‘em dry. I sure as hell don’t want to get galleded.” 

Daryl stepped back and looked to the horizon, “That is a good plan, Rick.”

Rick nodded and went to check on the horses and walk them around a bit so they didn’t get hoof rot. He’d brush them down good too, rain rot would be the next worry, but that would have to wait until daylight. But the horses were healthy and well fed, a couple of days of discomfort shouldn’t do them in.

Daryl pulled out all the wet clothes and bedding from the tent and started hanging them over the lower branches of the tree the horses had been under. It was a clear night with a soft breeze so maybe they would be dry by morning. 

Rick broke down the tent and spread out flat in hopes of it drying out too. To be honest he was sick of the damn thing after being stuck in it for two days and nights because of all the damn rain. He’d sleep on the canvas the horses had been under, it wouldn’t smell wonderful, but maybe the underside would be dry enough. 

He wasn’t sure he wanted to spend another night curled up with Daryl either. Yes, he’d liked what they had done, even enjoyed it. But now all he felt was guilt. Guilt for sullying Lori’s memory. Guilt for lying with a man. Guilt for feeling that way because Daryl was a fine man, a good man, and deserved more from Rick. 

It was late in the day, so there wasn’t much time to get any more done. Hopefully it wouldn’t rain anymore and they could spend the next few days drying out. 

There wasn’t any dry wood to start a campfire, so Rick ate more hard tac. Daryl squatted down near Rick and ate some too, but they didn’t talk. Rick still stuck in his head and Daryl just his normal quiet self. There wasn’t much else to do in the quickly darkening night, so Rick made up his bed and tried to sleep.

Daryl had walked off once Rick had settled down to sleep. Rick assumed he’d gone to relieve himself, but he didn’t come back. Between Rick keeping an ear out for him and Rick’s thoughts spinning in his head, he got barely any sleep. 

***

The morning sun brought with it a headache and Daryl walking up from the creek with a string of fish. He hair was damp and he was still only wearing his loincloth, which was a terrible distraction, but Rick reminded himself that he wasn’t going to think of Daryl in that way again. Daryl was just a man that he was bringing in, not for a bounty, but to honor Lori’s memory.

Rick put his damp hat and pants back on and got busy with cleaning up and drying out their camp while Daryl built a smoky fire to cook the fish. Checking the clothes and blankets that Daryl had put in the branches the night before Rick determined they were all too soggy still. It would be nice to rinse out some of the muddier things, but the creek was still running brown with silt, so that wasn’t going to happen.  

Most of the skins that Nick had been packing were still dry, but the ones that had been on top needed to air out. So Rick found a grassy patch to lay them on. Hopefully they would be dry before evening and they could all be packed back up. 

He dug in one of the packs for Walker’s brush and spent the better part of the morning cleaning his two horses, only stopping long enough to gobble down the fish. Their manes and tails were pretty badly tangled so brushing them was a study in patience because Walker did not like having his tail messed with. Daryl took pity on Rick and stood at Walker’s head and whispered to the horse in Cheyenne. Rick didn’t catch most of it, but it sounded like Daryl was telling Walker how brave and strong of a horse he was. 

Once the horses were settled and eating the last of the dry grain, Rick figured he could rustle up some rabbit or something for their dinner. So he grabbed his shotgun and with a quick word to Daryl, he walked toward the treeline. He was just as good a hunter as Daryl, he’d hunted for his food on the trail many a time.

He was back within a couple of hours with three good sized rabbits. Not only would they eat the meat, but Rick was planning on cleaning up their hides enough that he could sell the fur when he got back to town. 

The fire was a lot less smoky and Daryl had set up a spit to roast the rabbits on. They had plenty of daylight left so Rick took his time with the rabbits before putting them to the fire. It was while they were both crouched down focused on cooking their dinner that Rick realized that he hadn’t said but a few words to Daryl all day , and Daryl had said none to him

He knew they should probably talk about yesterday, but he just didn’t have it in him. He was comfortable here with Daryl , even after everything that happened the night before, and  he didn’t want to break the spell. Didn’t want to open that snake nest of complications and emotions. Daryl seemed disinclined to talk too, just kept turning the spit.

Daryl had dug up some kind of root from beside the creek that went well with the rabbit for dinner. After, while Rick cleaned up, Daryl wandered off and came back with his horse. Roamer didn’t look any worse for wear, but Daryl spent time brushing and cleaning him like Rick had done with his own earlier in the day.

“Too late to try for the village. We’ll leave at first light tomorrow.” Rick told Daryl.

Daryl nodded his head without looking up from his task. 

“Tent’s dry if you want to set it back up, but I’m ‘bout sick of it myself after being stuck in it for two days.”

Daryl paused in brushing Roamer, he didn’t look at Rick as he said, “I did not mind it too much. It was nice to sleep next to you.”

Rick laughed nervously, “You were drunk the first night, can’t see as you’d remember.”

The brush stroked along Roamer’s speckled hide again before Daryl finally looked at Rick, “I remember. I remember the next day. I remember all of it.”

“Right. I...I remember too. Don’t really want to talk about.”

“I do not need to talk about it.” Daryl turned his eyes back to his horse and continued to groom. 

“Good. So, I’m gonna curl up by the fire tonight.”

Daryl grunted in acknowledgement as he continued his task. Rick felt nothing but relief. He was pretty sure Daryl now knew that Rick didn’t need a repeat of yesterday. 

***

It was late, the fire down to embers and the moon just tripping over to finish it’s trek across the sky when Rick woke. He’d gone to bed not worrying about where Daryl was going to sleep, so  he  was surprised to find himself wrapped up in the man. He took a few moments to take stock. 

Rick had shucked his pants before turning in because they were chafing a bit around his thighs , they had  not  been quite dry when he’d put them on. And his shirt had come off after that, because why wear a shirt if you didn’t have pants on? He’d covered himself with a light blanket and laid out on the canvas again, the fire helping to keep the night’s chill away.

Daryl was now under the cover with Rick and seemed to be just as naked, his nose was stuck in Rick’s neck and arm was draped over Rick’s chest. The night sky had enveloped them in a fairyland of gray nimbus where sound was distorted and everything seemed slightly disconnected. 

The warm breath on his neck was what had woken Rick. It was doing funny things to him, that warm breath, like making  _ his  _ breath pant and his dick swell. Rick’s mind suddenly went back to the other night when Daryl had done all those  _ things  _ to him. Those things that made him almost forget about Lori. 

Biting his lip, Rick tried to ease away from the sleeping man that was  almost laying on top of him. He was very nearly successful, but Daryl’s hand slipped at the last minute and slid down Rick’s front to land near his hard cock, brushing against it and caus ing Rick to let out the breath he was holding. 

He darted a look to Daryl to see if had woken , and was met with eyes shining bright in the thin moonlight. Holding his gaze Daryl slid the hand further down Rick’s front, not quite touching his sex. 

Rick could tell him no, could tell him to stop. Rick knew Daryl would if he just said the word. But the otherworldliness of the night had stolen all his common sense. Because here was a warm body next to his that only wanted to make him feel good. And it had been so long since Rick had felt good. This would be the last time anyway, Rick would tell Daryl tomorrow that they couldn’t do any of this again. 

Holding those bright eyes in his, Rick put his hand on Daryl’s and moved it until it was wrapped around Rick’s hard cock. Daryl’s eyes shone even brighter as he squeezed and ran his hand up Rick’s length. 

It was slow, languid, at first. Daryl’s hand giving just the right amount of pressure to keep Rick aroused, but not quite enough to move him along toward a quick finish. Rick squirmed and tried to push into Daryl’s fist harder, but Daryl resisted him, keeping the same maddening pace.

The words slipped out before Rick even realized he was thinking them, “Please, Daryl.”

Daryl was kind enough not to make Rick beg anymore and rolled so that he was nearly on top of Rick. And just like the other night he started a slow trail of kisses and bites down and around Rick’s chest, paying particular attention to a needy nipple. Daryl seemed fascinated with how it would tighten up with a breath of air and then flatten out as he suckled it. How his nipple was connected to his cock Rick would never know, but it was something he never wanted to forget.

He was overwhelmed with the feel of Daryl all over him, a hand on his dick, another in his curls, a hot mouth leaving a trail of fire and ice wherever it went. And that mouth just kept going down and down until it reached Rick’s belly button where it paused. 

Rick looked down to see why everything had stopped only to see Daryl looking at him very intently. And as soon as Daryl was sure he had Rick’s attention he slowly stuck out his tongue and, with just the tip, lapped at the head of Rick’s cock like a kitten drinking milk for the first time. 

“Sweet Jesus, Daryl!” There had never been a tongue or a mouth there before (he couldn’t imagine Lori even thinking about doing that)  and even if the nipple thing had been nice, there was no describing this. Keeping Rick in his thrall, Daryl lapped from the tip of Rick’s swollen cock down to the base, each lick like a brand of an iron and the ache of an icy stream. 

Rick couldn’t tear his eyes away from Daryl and what he was doing with his wicked tongue, tracking the flicks and trying desperately to equate the feeling to anything else and he just couldn’t. He’s breathing hard now, his whole body focused on where Daryl decide d to lick next. And when Daryl g ot back up to the top of Rick’s cock, he engulf ed  it in his hot mouth, the sensation so  powerful  that Rick crie d out and buck ed up into it. The feel ing of warmth encasing his cock and  _ sucking _ d id Rick in and before he c ould say anything he let go into Daryl’s mouth, a silent scream on his own lips.

Daryl continued on until it was too much and Rick pulled away. Daryl sat up on his knees and pulled on his own cock until he spilled onto Rick’s thigh. He collapsed down next to Rick and lay there a moment before speaking.

“I will go back with you.” 

Rick turned to look at him, confused, “You said there was nothing for you there. Not even your brother.”

Daryl licked his lips and blew out a breath, “I have something now. Something that will be there that I want.”

Stunned, Rick said nothing. Just stared at Daryl. Rick could tell Daryl that he was wrong, that Rick wasn’t going to be there for him. That Rick didn’t feel that way and wouldn’t be able to be what Daryl wanted him to be. But then he remembered his vow to Lori and his promise to Merle. He could do this for them.

And after he got Daryl to see his brother,  Rick would be done and could go back to his family. Maybe find a little wife after a bit, not Beth of course, but maybe a girl from town. Then he could move on and forget about this whole stupid tragedy.

“Yeah, okay,” was all he said to Daryl.

The full on smile that Daryl gave him almost broke him. Almost made the confession spill out. But he bit his tongue, and let an arm go around Daryl when Daryl threw his arms around Rick. He just needed to keep things in focus, this wasn’t about him, it was about his promises. And Rick was nothing without his word.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't throw any tomatoes at me! Rick's the dumbass, not me!!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl is all in now, folks. Rick is still a dumbass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [KatyTheInspiredWorkaholic](%E2%80%9D) is a selfless miracle worker and a sweetie. You should go read her stuff ASAP! Lol 
> 
> I apologize for posting a bit later than usual. Real life got in the way.

As soon as they got to the next village Daryl was surrounded by a good portion of the folks living there, all excited to see him. Rick wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard them talking about the bear that Daryl had killed. Daryl didn’t like the attention and tried to shoo them off, the adults finally taking the hint, but the children followed him in a screeching mob as Rick and Daryl looked for the Chief  of the village .

Chief Little Fox was a young er man, not much older than Daryl, and was very happy to see them. He didn’t speak much English, and even with Rick’s broken Cheyenne, he couldn’t keep up with the quick chatter. 

Daryl took pity on Rick and translated, “He says he is happy to have such fine guests in his village and to stay as long as we want.”

Rick smiled at the chief and said, “That’s mighty kind of you. Hopefully we can do some trading and get on down the road.” He turned to Daryl, “I’d like to get home and see my family.”

The smile that lit up Daryl’s face was the brightest he’d ever shared with Rick, almost showing all of his teeth, “I would be honored to meet your family.”

Rick’s heart started beating harder in a sudden feeling of panic. Convincing Daryl to go back with him had been his mission this whole trip, but Rick usually didn’t go home until he was done with his job, and taking Daryl to meet his family hadn’t been part of the plan. So his choice would be to ditch Daryl at the prison, or take him home and figure out how to extricate himself from the charade without causing a ruckus for his family. His thoughts were interrupted  when Little Fox stopped a passing woman to ask for a tipi for the two of them. 

The woman came back shortly and took them to a tipi  set up near the middle of the village, Rick understood her  enough  to say it was the tipi for the bachelors, but that they were all out on a hunt and wouldn’t be back for a couple of days. Rick and Daryl would have the tipi to themselves. 

They dropped their personal packs just inside the door and then parted ways. Rick needed to get Walker and Nick taken care of and then do a better job of inventorying what he had left to trade before talking to the chief later on in the day. He was pretty sure his generosity in the first village had depleted his trade goods more than he expected. He had high hopes there would be enough beads left, he was pretty sure he bought too many. 

Daryl needed to find the wise man of the village and see if he could re-earn his feather. Daryl had looked grim at the thought, but Rick felt optimistic for him. Daryl was a very humble person and judging by the way that he’d acted after saving Rick’s life from the bear, he’d downplayed saving that kid’s life when he’d told Rick the story. Surely Daryl would only need to explain what had happened and he would get his feather. 

An empty spot near the village’s creek served as Rick’s workspace as he spread out what was left of his wares. He doubted he had enough for any more stops before he headed home. He did actually have a fair amount of beads (Daryl helping to pick them up hadn’t hurt)  - he might end up taking some back to Aaron’s shop and hope for a refund - a few bits of metal, and a few scraps of cloth with one bolt almost full still. Not much, but this was most likely going to be the last village. And right now Rick figured he’d just about come out even, even if he didn’t do any trading here. Which wasn’t good, but at least he wasn’t in the hole and Daryl had promised to go back with him. Not a roaring success, but not a waste of time. 

Despite Rick putting the furs out to dry at their last camping spot, some of them still looked a bit worse for wear. The creek was running brown still from the rain, so Rick figured on the way home they could stop at a clear creek and try to rinse them out and let them dry again. If not, there was still a market for them, they just wouldn’t get as much.

Rick expected Daryl to show up in the few hours it took him to reorganize his things, but by the time Rick headed back to the tipi they were staying in, Daryl still wasn’t around. And then after Rick got some lunch from the neighbor in the next tipi over, still no Daryl.

It was worrying now, Rick had hoped Daryl would help with the bartering since he’d had such a hard time understanding the Chief of this village. But it looked like he would have to muddle through on his own. 

The congenial Chief from the morning was gone and in his place was a man with a grim countenance. It was actually the same man, but it was as though he’d left all his good humor in his tipi and come out with nothing but contempt for Rick. It only went downhill from there. 

Nowhere were there any new and fresh furs from the last winter. The furs that the women brought out were old and musty, having seen many a hard winter. And the beads Rick had that had been lovely in all the other villages were now old and ugly, not fit for the bottoms of their shoes. Rick had never had to work so hard to make a deal. He now knew why this village had such a young chief, he was a crafty son of a bitch.

Rick was hard pressed to keep his good humor during the trading. At times seriously thinking about getting up and walking away, but then Chief Little Fox would ask for another fur to be brought out or look over the beads again, tsking or grunting. Although the Chief did not seem to speak any English, it was easy enough to see his dismissals and disgust over what Rick would offer or ask for. But soon enough the actual trade went through. Rick wasn’t sure he got the best deal, but he had gotten rid of a good portion of the beads and the whole bolt of fabric. The metal pieces were dismissed as unfit and so were left out of the trade. They were the last of the metal and had been picked over quite a bit, so Rick wasn’t surprised.

After the trading was done the happy young Chief came back and they shared a fine meal, some whiskey, and good chatter. Chief Little Fox knew the story of the bear and Daryl’s role in saving Rick’s life, pantomiming a bear attacking and then being slain. Rick realized he shouldn’t feel shame in almost being bested by the bear , and the Chief did not think Rick less of a man for it. The bear had been known as a killer far and wide.

The moon was high in the sky by the time Rick got back to the tipi he and Daryl would be sharing. He was a bit tipsy, but not bad enough to embarrass himself. He was a  little upset that Daryl still hadn’t shown his face , though . He’d looked at all the faces he saw around the fire and wandered around the village a bit, but didn’t see Daryl anywhere. Rick had no idea what all was involved in gaining back a broken feather , and  wondered if maybe Daryl had to leave for a bit  in order to do so . 

Someone had kindly started  the  a  small fire in the middle of tipi, just enough to see by in the darkness,  but  not enough to warm it up too much. Rick took off all of his clothes  sluggishly, because he was still a bit chaffed from wearing  them damp . And he always did prefer to sleep in the nude, Lori had been scandalized but once she realized Rick wasn’t budging on that, she got over it. 

Rick was spread out and comfortable when the flap opened to a very sweaty, weary Daryl. He watched as Daryl unceremoniously took off his clothes  as well  and dropped them in a pile. The wan light from the fire played across Daryl’s sweat slick skin, making it glow a golden hue. And the scent coming off him would make Rick wrinkle his nose if it came from another man, but from Daryl it reminded him of their previous evening together and what they had done. It was heating Rick up in a way that would have disturbed him more if it weren’t for the whiskey. 

Daryl barely flicked his eyes over Rick before dropping down and rolling over to sleep. Rick bit his lip and rolled over the other way, reminding himself that whatever he and Daryl did when they were alone was to make sure Daryl came home, not to fulfil Rick’s desires. 

***

Rick was alone when he woke the next morning, the early morning sun just starting to fill the sky and scatter the mist. He dressed quickly and went to check on Walker and Nick, his head only mildly aching from the whiskey.

The horses were tied in a line with some of the village horses near the creek. Rick untied Walker and led him down to the water.  As he got closer he could hear splashing and thought maybe one of the village women was there collecting water for the day. It would be rude to put his horse in up creek from her, so he looked for where she might be so that he could find a spot that wouldn’t disturb her.

But it wasn’t a woman, it was Daryl. Washing himself in the chilly stream just like Rick had seen before on their trip, ducking his head under and coming back up with water streaming down his body. Rick stood mesmerized by the cascade over Daryl’s taut muscles and bronzed skin, he didn’t realize he’d dropped Walker’s lead until the horse ambled into the water. 

Daryl’s head shot around at the noise, his eyes catching on Rick. They stared at each other, Rick unsure if he should avert his eyes and go after his horse, or pretend like it was no big deal. He felt the heat of a blush creep down his neck and wondered if Daryl could see it in this light.

Walker stepped between them and broke the spell, Rick unsure if it was good or bad. He scrambled and grabbed up the lead he had dropped. When he stood back up, Daryl was wading out of the creek, aiming for his folded clothes that lay on a rock.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt your bath,” he said as he ran a hand down Walker’s flank, not wanting to look at Daryl.

“Was done.” Daryl startled Rick with how close he was.

Turning, Rick saw that Daryl was still dripping wet and naked, buckskins held in his hand, and standing so very close. Rick’s mouth went dry as his eyes traveled from Daryl’s hand s holding his things, up his broad chest, and met eyes that looked back at him with a mixture of curiosity and humor. 

Swallowing hard in an effort to get some moisture back, Rick turned back to Walker and continued to run his hands along the horse, trying hard to look like he was checking for hot spots. He could just hear and see the village over Walker’s shoulder, but there was no one  here near where Rick and Daryl were. He could still feel Daryl standing a hair’s breadth behind him.

“Didn’t see you all day yesterday. Looked tuckered out when you got back,” he said to break the tension.

“I had to earn my feather back, Rick.”

Rick couldn’t stop his curiosity, “Did you?”

Daryl answered with a simple, “Yes,” but Rick could hear the smile in his voice. 

When Rick spared a glance over his shoulder, Daryl was proudly holding a bright, clean, eagle feather. Rick couldn’t hold back his own smile, Daryl’s happiness was infectious. He didn’t even think, just reached for the feather so that he could look at it closer, forgetting how precious it was to Daryl.

But Daryl pulled it back to himself, a mild rebuke in his eyes. Rick dropped his hand and looked away sheepishly. He should have known better, after all the heartache the broken feather had caused Daryl. 

“I’m glad you got your feather.” Rick said into the side of Walker, still pretending to look after him. 

“Rick,” Daryl said softly.

Rick stilled his hands and waited, eyes still firmly attached to Walker’s flank.

“Look at me.”

Biting his lip, Rick turned to Daryl, still leary after his mistake. 

The rebuke that had been in Daryl’s eyes was gone, replaced with a softness that Rick had never seen there before, forgiveness perhaps. And Rick found himself drinking it up like cool water from a stream after a long day in the saddle. So lost was he that he didn’t notice that they had drifted closer together, close enough for Rick’s hand to brush against Daryl’s naked thigh. 

He pulled back quickly, but Daryl was already surging forward, dropping his clothes so that he could touch Rick. Daryl's eyes never straying from his, hands wrapped around strong arms and pulled so that they were touching from chest to thigh. Daryl’s wet body plastered against Rick, the dampness barely felt over the heat that had sprung up between them.

“Daryl,” Rick breathed out in a long sigh, not sure if it was a plea to stop or continue.

Cocking his head to the side, Daryl put his mouth on Rick’s neck in the spot he’d discovered on his first trip over Rick’s body. The warm breath and soft kiss doing more to undo Rick than he could ever imagine. 

“I want to show you,” Daryl whispered into Rick’s neck. “Want to show you how good it can be.”

“The village…” Rick protested. They’d never done anything in the light of day, young though it was today, everything had been at night or near enough. It had always felt like a dream. This though, this time, this place, with the sun just starting to travel across the sky felt so very real. And Rick wasn’t sure he was ready for that. 

But the feel of Daryl’s mouth, and his hands on Rick’s body derailed that thought so that all Rick could focus on was the fever that was overcoming him. 

“They will not see.” Daryl’s lips ghosting over Rick’s ear caused him to shiver all over and he was lost.

Daryl was there to guide Rick on this still unfamiliar journey, kissing and caressing him all over, pulling Rick’s shirt open to gain more access to the lightly furred chest that Daryl seemed to be fascinated by. Rick was no longer trying to stop him, or even worry about the village, so spellbound he didn’t care if the whole of the community came to watch.

Rick’s cock was straining against his pants when Daryl finally made it there. He was nearly senseless with a want that he couldn’t describe, his one hand fisted in Walker’s mane, the other at his side. Daryl’s tentative nip at the tip of Rick’s still clothed hardness made him jump. It must have amused Daryl because he did it again and again, a little harder each time until Rick was gasping for breath.

Glancing down he could see the top of Daryl’s still wet hair and just barely make out where Daryl was pulling at himself in pleasure. Rick had never seen Daryl hard like this, sure he’d felt it along his body when they’d been together before, gotten a hazy look at it when Daryl finished himself off those other times, but not really seen it. And it was not unlike Rick’s, flushed darker than the rest of his body, a little above average in size, and at the moment, hard as a rock. 

Rick’s involuntary moan pulled one from Daryl and motivated Daryl to go on and open Rick’s fly. When Rick’s cock was free, Daryl took time to admire it before kissing the head, causing Rick to breath out an elongated ‘fuuuck’. Daryl huffed out a puff of air, and even that felt incredible, before fully engulfing Rick in an exquisite blaze of heat and wetness that nearly brought Rick to his knees. 

And then Rick was adrift in the sensation of Daryl worshipping him by kissing, licking, sucking him in adoration that should have felt obscene but just felt like paradise. His hips moved of their own accord, jutting towards the sinfulness of Daryl’s mouth as he moved closer and closer to coming undone.

Chancing another look down, he could see Daryl had his eyes closed in rapture as he took Rick’s thrusts between his lips and worked his own cock in a tight fist. It was too much and Rick was done, spending his seed into Daryl without a warning other than a loud vulgarity that caused Walker to turn and look at him with a baleful eye. 

He came back to himself, abashed to find that he was still deep in Daryl’s mouth until he realized Daryl just hadn’t let go, as though sucking Rick’s cock brought him a pleasure equal to what he had given Rick. Daryl didn’t stop until he had climaxed, spilling out all over the ground at their feet. 

Daryl stood and, making sure he had Rick’s full attention, swallowed . T hen pick ed up  his things, and walk ed  back towards the creek. Rick was left confused and flustered. He was still a bit wobbly from what had just happened , and Daryl just walked away like all he had done was relieve himself. 

Rick shook those feelings off and adjusted his pants. How Daryl dealt with this was not as important as Rick getting him back to civilization. He’d made a promise to Merle and Hershel, but most importantly, Lori.

Lori. 

Rick bit the inside of his cheek. He hadn’t thought of her since he’d gotten to the village, and he wasn’t sure when he had before that. She was the reason he was here, his promise to her and nothing else. He needed to remember that and forget about how Daryl’s mouth had felt on him. 

Kicking some dirt over the evidence of Daryl’s orgasm, he jerked Walker’s head and led him back to the other horses. He was going to gather his things and Daryl and leave before the sun could climb much higher in the sky. The desire to see Lori’s grave a pull so hard it was a physical ache in his chest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, poor Rick. He just isn't ready to admit he has feelings for Daryl. Of course, Daryl has no confusion at all.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick learns something important about Daryl. Also, the return of Aaron and Eric.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I told you guys how awesome [KatyTheInspiredWorkaholic](%E2%80%9D) is? Because she is like...the bestest. Ever.

Rick let out a sigh of frustration. Nick just couldn’t carry all of the furs. And while Walker could carry some, it wouldn’t be enough for the whole load. He’d given a half second thought to asking if Roamer could haul some, but Rick couldn’t imagine the independent horse agreeing to that.

He  had  just contemplated dumping the worst of the lot (and that was an awful thought after all the work he’d done last night) when Daryl walked up leading a sturdy looking dappled gray mare. She wasn’t a filly anymore, but still looked willing and able to pack the furs over the long trail ahead of them. 

“Does she have a name?” Rick asked.

“I do not know, but they tell me she is a biter, so be careful.” 

Rick eyed the mare with a new respect, “All right then, Biter it is.”

Biter bared her teeth at Rick when he got close, but did not follow up. Rick would put her down if it became a problem, furs be damned.

Soon enough they were loaded up, Daryl taking a couple of the packs with their supplies to help even out the load as much as possible. They hadn’t talked about  that  morning  yet ,  though  Rick suspected that Daryl didn’t see a problem with it , and he was just fine with that.  Rick felt t he less they talked about that stuff, the better. Stringing Daryl along wasn’t something Rick wanted to do, it wasn’t the type of person Rick was, and discussing it would just be piling more dishonesty on the whole situation. 

The children of the village followed them longer than Rick felt comfortable with, but Daryl eventually shooed them all back home, the threat of siccing Biter on them a good deterrent. Apparently they were quite happy to get rid of the troublesome mare. Rick found himself feeling sorry for the thing, wondering if maybe she was just misunderstood. He vowed to be extra nice to her.

They made good time that first day, despite the heavy loads, the horses fresh and well rested. The waterlogged camp they’d been stuck at for far too long was passed by without acknowledgement from either of them . Rick would rather sleep in the creek than there again.

It was when Biter dug in her heels and wouldn’t walk another step that Rick knew they were done for the day. Luckily Daryl deemed where they were a good enough spot to camp so they didn’t have to persuade the damn horse to go on. 

After quickly setting up the camp, Daryl left to hunt and Rick unloaded the horses, paying special attention to Biter’s head. Roamer had gone with Daryl, but Biter had stayed behind, watching Rick curiously as he took care of Walker and Nick. Rick took a chance and carefully starting rubbing down the gray mare. 

When Daryl got back with two rabbits and a bird, Biter was nuzzling Rick’s head as Rick worked on brushing out her mane. Daryl’s snort of laughter surprised both of them, Biter gave him a bitter glare - Rick gave a sheepish grin.

“She likes being brushed.” Rick explained.

Daryl shook his head and headed over to the fire to get started on cleaning his kills. 

Their dinner was roasting over the fire and nearly done by the time Rick was finished with Biter, a couple of cubes of sugar also did wonders. It was late in the summer and the nights were just starting to have a bit of a chill, so the fire was welcome. And despite Rick’s mission, Daryl was still pleasant company. 

Rick tried hard not to think back to the morning and what Daryl had done to him. He didn’t want to feel the crushing guilt again. Or how good it had felt and how he’d never felt anything like that before. He and Lori had never done anything like that and Rick was pretty sure he’d never work up the nerve to even think about asking her for such a thing.

He was talking before he even realized he had a fully formed thought about it, “Daryl. That...thing you did this morning, and the other time.”

Daryl threw the rabbit bone he was gnawing on into the fire and turned to Rick.

‘I’ve never...never even thought about..” Rick stumbled to a stop. What was he going to say? That he wanted more? Or that he never wanted it again?

“Rick. I have told you. There is so much to show you. You did not tell me to stop so I think that you like it and want it again.” Daryl said with confusion in his eyes.

Cursing himself, Rick got up and walked to the edge of the camp. This was going to go badly, he just knew it, but he had to keep his promise and hope that Daryl would forgive him. No, scratch that  - Daryl would never forgive him, but would Rick be able to forgive himself?

***

The trip back to Cheyenne was nearly uneventful, The days were still warm, but the nights grew colder. There were plenty of furs to keep them warm at least. Rick was on a tightrope, keeping Daryl close, but not too close. He let Daryl  _ touch  _ him whenever Daryl felt the need. It wasn’t too often, once out of three nights or so. And the one time that Rick had fallen into the creek, one minute he was shucking his wet clothes and the next he was on his back in the grass, Daryl on him like a leech and probably sucking just as hard.

Biter was insanely jealous of any time Daryl got too close to Rick while she was around. She hadn’t bit him yet, but there were a couple of times it seemed like Daryl was in real danger of losing a bit of himself to the mare. Luckily she minded Roamer and never really got a chance.

On a day that was clear and bright and they were far into Wyoming territory, Daryl stopped his horse and looked down a long washed out trail that led off into the distance. Rick stopped too, curious as to what had grabbed the other man’s attention.

“My mother and...my  _ father _ ...we lived that way,” Daryl said. He pointed to a tree that grew next to the road, “That is the tree where the Cheyenne found me. I was hiding from my father. He was very angry that day,” Daryl’s hands clenched tight in Roamer’s mane. “The Cheyenne went to fetch him, but they came back alone. He had killed my mother and burned the house. I do not know if they killed him or if he killed himself. I was not sorry to hear that he was gone.”

“Daryl, I am so sorry,” what else could Rick say? 

“He was the one that gave me the marks you see on me, not the Cheyenne.I did not know it was wrong until they showed me. I never wish to harm another man in that way.”

That would explain why Daryl held himself so close and only opened up to a few people. Rick should probably feel honored, but he just felt even more like an ass. Daryl’s already seen a lifetime of hurt. 

***

They were a day out of Cheyenne when Rick spoke to Daryl about something that had been weighing on his mind. “Daryl, when we get into town can’t nobody know what we get up to when we’re alone.”

Daryl was quiet for a long moment. Rick didn’t pester him, he knew Daryl heard him and understood what he was saying. “I am not ashamed of what I am Rick. But for you, I will not cause you to feel shame.” 

This thing he was asking of Daryl, to pretend, to not be himself - Rick felt that in his gut. And he wasn’t even sure if it would be that bad. Aaron and Eric at the bead shop were obviously a couple and seemed to be doing just fine. It wasn’t that unusual for two men to shack up together under the pretense that there weren’t enough women around. But there was still the nagging fear in the back of Rick’s craw that held him back. 

Besides, maybe the two of them not being so close for the last week or so together might make things easier for Daryl when Rick cut him loose. 

***

“Ain’t no damn way I’m lettin’ a damn injun stay in my hotel.” 

Rick let a long breath out. They’d gotten into Cheyenne late in the day and he was hoping he could set them up a place at a hotel before trying to do some business. “I already told ya, he ain’t an injun. He’s as white as me and you.”

The middle aged woman who’d seen better days crossed her arms and fixed a hard glare at Daryl, “Looks like an injun, sounds like an injun and,” here she paused and took a dramatic breath of air, “smells like an injun. He ain’t staying.” 

“Rick. We do not need to stay here. I am happy to sleep by the campfire.” Daryl said in his calm way.

“No. And it ain’t even that. This close to town, one of us’d have to stay awake on watch so’s we don’t get robbed blind in our sleep.”

“Then we can stay at another hotel.” 

This prompted a snort from the woman behind the counter, “Not likely. Ain’t nobody in this town gonna let a redskin like you infest their beds.”

Rick was halfway across the counter before Daryl could haul him back, the rest of the people in the lobby staring with shocked faces all around them.

“Get out of my hotel before I call the sheriff,” the woman growled. 

The steady pull on his arm and the insistent “Rick” from Daryl was the only thing that broke the death glare he was giving the woman. And she was lucky she was a woman, or even Daryl would not have been able to hold him back for insulting his friend that way.

A reluctant Rick was escorted out by an amused Daryl. “What?” Rick asked.

“I thought we were not going to let anyone know.” Daryl said under his breath.

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with standing up for someone. I’d have done it anyway.”

Daryl’s small smile slipped a little, but brightened back up, “If you say so Rick.”

The bead store was just down the block from the hotel so Rick decided that it was worth a stop.  He’d gotten all the beads he had left organized and hoped he could get a little money back for them.  He’d also traded for some finished beaded goods and thought perhaps he could sell them as well. He was only stopping here because it was right there across the street and he could finish this up before they looked for another hotel. Maybe one of the less savory saloons near the edge of town wouldn’t look at Daryl twice. 

Rick pushed the door to the shop open, causing the little bell over it to ring, Daryl just a step behind him.

“Hello!” A voice cried from the back. 

“Hello!” Rick replied.

Aaron soon came from the back carrying a small bag of bright yellow beads. “Oh! Hello. Rick, right?”

“Yeah. Just got back in town and was hoping you’d be in.” 

“We’re here.” Eric said as he came from the back, carrying his own bag of beads, this time blue. 

Rick jumped right into why he was there, “So I had some beads left over and I was wondering if you would buy them back from me. It’s not a lot, but I don’t really have a need for beads for myself. And I’ve got some beadworked bags and things if you’re interested in those.”

Aaron smiled at Rick and then seemed to notice Daryl standing behind him. “You’ve brought a friend I see.”

“Yeah, this here is Daryl…”

“Short Arrow.” Daryl cut in.

“Right, Short Arrow.” Rick said with a grimace.

“You look tired. Why don’t you all come back in the morning after you’ve rested up. I’m sure we can work something out.” Eric said.

“Well, I was hoping to get as much stuff done before the sun sets so we can be on our way. We’ll have to camp outside of town and I don’t want to have to worry about getting held up.”

“Are all the hotels full?” Aaron asked.

Daryl smiled, “They do not wish me to dirty their sheets.” 

Eric made an outraged face, “That is ridiculous! You aren’t any dirtier than any other man that comes in off the trail.”

“Tell me about it,” Rick growled.

“We have a spare room that you can use while you are in town,” Eric offered.

Aaron shot his partner a look of panic before excusing them and pulling Eric to the back of the store. Rick didn’t want to eavesdrop, but he heard “not our problem” and “it’s not right” and something about an anniversary that didn’t make any sense. 

Soon enough the pair came back, Aaron with a sheepish expression on his face and Eric with a large smile. “It’s settled, you can stay here tonight and as long as you need. That way you don’t have to worry about rushing and losing out on a good deal for your other stuff.”

“That’s mighty kind of you, but we don’t want to impose,” Rick said.

“Oh pish, nothing for it. We have room and you all are tired. And by the looks of it, hungry. Have you eaten?” Eric was nothing if not excited. 

“Not yet.”

“We could eat.” 

Daryl smirked over at Rick as they spoke at the same time. 

“Like Dar...Short Arrow says, we could eat.”

“Great! I have some stew and cornbread if you want to come in the back. Aaron, take care of their horses, will you?” 

Eric ignored the befuddled looks all around him as he made for the back of the store. Rick looked at Aaron who just shrugged his shoulders and left to do Eric’s bidding. Daryl watched Aaron leave and then followed Eric to the back. Rick hoped Aaron didn’t get too close to Biter as he caught up with Daryl.

The meal was pleasant, they had beer and talked about how the town was still recovering from the hard winter. Quite a few of the storefronts were empty now and people had left in droves since the cattle market had dried up with the death of so many herds. There wouldn’t be any beef to take home, but the furs should sell for a premium. Daryl only spoke when asked a direct question, more intent on filling his belly than talking.

Rick and Daryl excused themselves to check on the horses and to make sure the rest of their stuff was squared away, Aaron had said they were going to settle up the store for the night and would get the extra bedroom ready.

“They are very kind,” Daryl said. 

“Yes,” Rick agreed.

“They are mé'oono.” 

Rick ha d to think hard about what that word meant, but he was pretty sure it had something to do with sweethearts. “Yeah, I think so.”

“You do not think bad of them?” Daryl asked.

“I never said I had a problem with it, I said I worry about other people who have a problem with it.” Rick said as he checked Walker’s hooves for stones, not willing to look Daryl in the eye. 

Daryl only grunted and turned to Roamer. The horse was not happy about being locked up in a wooden box and was letting Daryl know it by blowing and and kicking at the stall door. Whatever Daryl told him though, calmed him down enough that he stopped kicking at least. 

Rick hoped that Walker and Nick would have a calming effect on the plains horses. Biter had already eaten her fill and turned her flank to the stall door. And now that Daryl had calmed his horse, Rick was sure the they would have a quiet night.

When they went back inside, Eric was busy heating up water on the stove, “I’ve got the bathtub half full. Figured you boys would like to get some of the trail off ya before you go to bed.”

“That’s very kind of you Eric.” Rick said. He wasn’t expecting a whole bathtub full of water, a basin of tepid water would have been enough. 

Eric hauled the large kettle off the stove and headed for the back stairs, “Oh, it’s no problem. And if you leave your dirty things in your room, I’ll wash them up for you tomorrow while you’re out.” 

He was gone before Rick could think of an answer to that. He looked over to Aaron who shrugged and gave him a wide smile.

“We don’t get many guests,” he said.

Rick nodded in understanding. Lori had been like that the first time the preacher had come to see them on the homestead. Trying to do three things at once to put the man at ease, but getting herself worked up into a tizzy. At least Eric wasn’t doing that.

Rick and Daryl followed the sounds of pouring water and soon found the room they would be spending the night in.

Eric was just turning down the bed as they got in the room, “There’s towels on the dresser and soap and a rag too. I have some soap from France, but I didn’t think you’d care for it, so it’s just a bar of Ivory instead. You can just leave it when you’re done if it doesn’t bother you, I’ll empty out the tub tomorrow while you’re gone. There’s a chamber pot under the bed of course and I’m sure you saw the outhouse while you were checking on the horses.”

Rick waited until Eric straightened up before saying, “It’s fine. We’ll be fine. This is better than what I even have at home. We thank you.”

Eric beamed at the two of them and then turned red with embarrassment, “Oh! I should go. You all have a good night and we’ll see you in the morning. Aaron is usually up with the sun and gets the coffee started and….oh, sorry. I’m babbling. Good night!”  he said as he smiled again and pulled the door shut on his way out.

Rick eyed the steaming bath water with a fair bit of joy. A hot bath was welcome at the end of a long dusty trail. He wasn’t as willing to go skinny dipping in the creek every morning like Daryl was wont to do. Daryl was standing at the window, looking out. “You want to go first?” Rick asked.

“No. I will go and check on Roamer and you can take your bath.”

“I think Aaron’s already locked up for the night. ‘Sides, it ain’t like we haven’t seen each other in our birthday suits already.”

Daryl nodded his head, but continued to look out the window. Rick just sighed and started taking off his clothes, no reason for Daryl to get all shy now. But Rick couldn’t resist the pull of the hot water any longer and was soaking in the tub before you could say jackrabbit. 

He didn’t stay in as long as he would have liked, Daryl would probably want to bathe too, so Rick quickly lathered himself in sections (face, arms, chest, legs, feet) before washing his hair and dunking under the water until he couldn’t hold his breath any longer.

When he came back up for air, Daryl was gone. Rick let out a long sigh, not sure what had gotten into him. Maybe it was just sleeping in a building that was getting to him. Rick wasn’t even sure if Daryl had ever slept in a real bed since he was a kid.

Daryl was grown man, so Rick wasn’t going to go chasing after him. He trusted that Daryl’d stay out of trouble and would come back before they had to leave in the morning. After drying himself off and crawling into bed, he realized that it was the first time in weeks that he hadn’t slept within at least arms length of the other man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is up with Daryl? Anyone care to guess?


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damn Rick and his mixed signals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So when I say how awesome [KatyTheInspiredWorkaholic](%E2%80%9D) is, it is because she has three WIPs, a full time job, a family, and yet she still has time to beta for me on my schedule. 
> 
> Also, Wow! 17 chapters! More than halfway done! And Rick is still being a dumbass.

Rick woke to the sound of banging. At first he thought it was someone knocking on the door, but he couldn’t get up to answer it for some reason.  After a minute of confusion (and more banging) he realized he had an arm draped over his chest, and that the banging was coming from the wall behind his bed.

He settled back down and took stock. Aaron and Eric were in the room next door, Rick had figured that out last night, and the arm was attached to Daryl. He wasn’t sure when Daryl had joined him in the bed  \-  and to be honest, he was a little surprised that he slept through Daryl climbing into bed with him.

The banging was intensifying, so much so that Daryl was also beginning to stir. Rick could just make out the shine in Daryl’s eyes as he blinked them open. The smirk he gave Rick after a moment was nothing but naughty.

“What are they doing?” Rick whispered. 

“You do not know?”

“If I did, would I ask you? Are they hanging a picture or something?” Rick was truly confused.

Before Daryl could answer, the voices of the two in the next room over could be heard. At first just barely, with a word or two forming. Words like, ‘yes’ and ‘more’. 

“Are they…?” 

“Yes Rick, they are making love.” Daryl said with a hint of humor.

“But how? They can’t. They don’t have…” here Rick trailed off and motioned in a broad sweep towards his lower half.

Daryl tilted his head so that he could put his mouth near Rick’s ear, “I told you, there is so much more.”

The shiver that ran down Rick’s spine settled at the base of his dick, causing it to rise despite his fretfulness. Daryl must have instinctively known, because his hand slid from Rick’s chest down and wrapped around the hardening cock.

Rick’s breath caught before he could ask, “What….what else could there be?”

Daryl sighed, “If I could show you tonight I would, for now, let me do this…” he gave a hard tug, causing Rick to whimper.

  
The banging was now hard enough that the picture on the wall was bouncing in tandem with the blows, and Rick could hear Eric crying out, “Don’t stop!” over and over again. He’d never been one to eavesdrop on a person, but the sounds of the two men in the next room was more titillating than he expected. Daryl working him over wasn’t hurting either. 

Soon enough, with one or two false stops, the banging came to a conclusion. Rick did too, with Daryl sucking on his nipple and expertly bringing him to release. And just like most nights, after Rick was finished, Daryl got up on his knees and jerked himself off on Rick.   

It took a little longer for the shame to creep up from Rick’s stomach, but it did, even if it wasn’t as much as the first time they’d done this. Maybe because he’d lost count or maybe because of the antics of the men in the room next door, but it wasn’t as all consuming as it had been and that was as worrying as the guilt. The lack of guilt. 

Daryl hopped out of bed and grabbed the rag from the edge of the tub and brought it back to clean Rick off. Rick hissed from the coldness of it, Daryl letting out a small huff of laughter.

“Not funny.” Rick mumbled.

Daryl tossed the rag back in the direction of the tub, not even noticing that it missed, “It is very funny.”

Rick let out a sigh as Daryl crawled back in bed, “I thought you were going to sleep outside.”

“Your horse stank,” Daryl said as he settled down next to Rick like he had been.

“Daryl…”

“Go to sleep Rick. We can talk about it tomorrow.” 

“But…”

“Rick, if you do not be quiet and go to sleep, I  _ will  _ go sleep with the horses.” Daryl mumbled as he rolled over and shifted around in the bed. 

Clamping his mouth shut, Rick slid farther down in the bed. He’d never hear the end of it if Daryl had to sleep with the horses. 

***

Rick was sure that Aaron and Eric would be embarrassed about last night, Lori’d always turned red if anyone even hinted at being intimate outside of the bedroom. But the two men greeted their guests the next morning with bright smiles and nary a blush. Rick decided not to mention it. 

Eric made them a breakfast of biscuits and eggs with a side of bacon. Rick couldn’t remember the last time he’d had bacon. It was heaven in his mouth. Daryl seemed to enjoy it too if the look of bliss on his face was anything to go by.

Rick caught Aaron’s eye as he sat down, “I’ll be going down to see if I can sell those furs I’ve got, not sure where I can go to get a square deal. Any suggestions?” 

“I think Gregory would be your best bet. He drives a hard bargain, but if you don’t back down, you can get a fair price. But I think he’d rather trade with you.” Aaron said after glancing over to Eric for confirmation.

“Don’t know that I need anything. Was mostly doing this for Hershel. Owe the man.” Rick looked away and stared off into the distance, Lori’s screams suddenly echoing in his ears.

It took Daryl touching his arm to bring him back into the conversation. “Yeah, I’ll see what this Gregory’s got. If I see anything Hershel’d need, I’ll get it.”

They were finished with breakfast and Rick and Daryl were getting the horses ready to go when Eric hurried out with a small basket. “I hope you don’t mind. I made you a little lunch, it’s not much, but you won’t have to buy anything. And I’m making a roast, a very sad roast, but there will be plenty if you all come back for dinner. And the guest room will still be there for you.”

Daryl smiled and thanked Eric as he took the basket. Rick gave him a hard stare before asking, “Why are you being so hospitable? You barely know us.”

A small blush bloomed across Eric’s cheeks. “You don’t seem to mind me and Aaron. And, well, Jessie is-was- my friend and she told me what you did for her when you were here last.”

Rick tilted his head to the side, “Was?”

Eric bit his lip, “Um, yeah. Pete, um...Pete  tried to killed her and the kids about two weeks after you left. She shot him and got the hell out of there. Don’t know if she’d had the guts to do it if it weren’t for you.”

Rick lowered his head and pinched his nose. “Shoulda got her out of there.”

Eric shook his head, “Don’t you think I tried? She said she had nowhere to go and Pete would just find her anyway. There was a trial, but the boys testified that Pete was gonna kill them all. She took the boys and headed to San Francisco. She wrote me a letter and said they are doing all right.”

“Glad everything worked out,” Rick said, “Too bad she had to kill him though.”

“Rick,” Daryl said.

Taking a deep breath, Rick looked to where Daryl was standing next to Roamer’s head, “You could not make her go if she did not want to go. You have no guilt here.”

Nodding his head, he cla p ped Eric on the shoulder, “Thank you for telling me.”

Eric smiled and said, “See you at dinner,” and went back in the store.

Sighing heavily, Rick grabbed up the leads for Biter and Nick before mounting Walker. 

***

The negotiations with Gregory went pretty much as Aaron had said. Gregory and his man went over every fur with a fine tooth comb pointing out each and every blemish or rough patch. Rick pointing out that the furs were extra thick because of the harsh winter, and that he had a few fine rabbit furs to add.

Not all of the furs had made the cut, the trader only wanting the finest, but enough of them that Rick was willing to fight hard for the right price. They had been at it for almost two hours and Rick was sure he’d have to give up and take his furs elsewhere. They were so close on the price, just a few dollars between what Gregory was willing to give and what Rick was willing to take. 

And then he spied it, leaning innocently against the wall. It was a little banged up, seen better days, but still looked serviceable. Pointing it out to Gregory he said, “Throw that in and we’ll call it done.”

Gregory laughed and stuck his hand out, “You got a deal Mr. Grimes.”

Daryl eyed the piece as they walked out. “That is not going on my horse.”

Rick threw back his head and laughed. He didn’t care if he had to strap the wooden leg to himself, the civil war relic was going back to the homestead. He couldn’t wait to see the look on Hershel’s face when he gave it to him.

They ate their lunch in a the shadow of one of the many vacant buildings. No words were spoken, just the quietness of two companions used to spending time together. Daryl may not yet know it, but Rick knew their time together was growing short. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it, Daryl had grown on him and he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t miss the man once they parted ways.

Daryl actually riding away was something Rick hadn’t thought of, but it would happen. Hopefully after they visited with Merle at the prison. Or maybe Rick would be the one riding away, leaving Daryl with his brother. Either way, they wouldn’t be traveling together much longer.

The rest of the furs were traded at a smaller, less profitable, fur dealer for hardtack, jerky, flour, and grain for the horses. It would be enough to get them home and maybe a little left over. Daryl could take some with him when they parted ways.

Axel’s metal shop was the last stop of the day. Rick had some fine elk antlers to trade. He could always use more nails and hinges and things for the homestead. Daryl picked out a fine knife that he put in a sheath on his thigh. It looked good there, like it belonged.

Daryl had not liked Axel at all, glaring at the smaller man the whole time they were in the little shop. Axel, for his part, stood tall, but deferential. Never once letting Rick or Daryl get the better of him. The trades were fair. There was only a minor incident when he called Daryl a “half-breed”, but since the man didn’t mean any harm, and was truly sorry to upset Daryl, Rick let it pass. 

They passed by the fabric store on the way back. Rick paused and tried to peer through the dusty glass. Someone had boarded most of the windows up, leaving only a small triangle to see into the building. 

He could just make out her voice urging him to go. He should have followed Pete, put a bullet in his head like he wanted to. But he hadn’t been out on the plain where there would be no witnesses. And at the end of the day, Rick still had his own little family to think about and get home to.

Clucking to Walker, he turned the horse’s head and aimed for the bead shop. One more night in this town and then they would be on their way to the prison and then home. And the pull of Carl and Judith far outweighed worrying about what to do with Daryl. Rick just wanted to get home.

***

The tinkling of the bell announced their arrival back, Eric hurrying to the front of the store wearing a blue gingham apron. Rick eyed it suspiciously, it looked very feminine. Eric noticed though and standing tall and looking Rick in the eyes said, “Jessie made it for me. She called me Aaron’s little woman sometimes. As a joke. I...I didn’t start wearing it until…”

Daryl put his hand on Eric’s arm, “It is nice to have reminders of people we love.”

Eric sniffed and nodded his head. Rick looked at him seriously, “It brings out the color of your eyes.”

“Oh! Well..thank you!” Eric put a hand to his face before turning around and heading to the back, “Boy, I must be red as a beet! Come along and get cleaned up. Dinner will be ready as soon as Aaron gets home.”  

Rick looked at Daryl, “You go on ahead. I’ll put the horses up.”

Daryl gave Rick a long look before nodding and heading off after Eric. Aaron came into the yard as Rick was getting Walker in his stall. He nodded to Rick and headed for the little gray mare and tried to pull off her bridle.

“I wouldn’t do that. Her name is Biter after all.” Rick warned him.

Aaron backed off and threw a “Thanks” over his shoulder and grabbed up Nick instead.

They didn’t talk as they unsaddled the horses and packed away what loose goods they had left. Both men working quietly and quickly. Rick was just giving the horses some grain when Aaron spoke from where he was closing the door on Nick’s stall.

“So, you and Daryl. Have you been together long?” 

A double handful of grain fell on the ground as Rick processed what Aaron had just asked him. “Just met him on this trip,” he managed to answer as he cleaned up the mess.

“Love at first sight?” Aaron asked.

Rick straightened up and looked Aaron in the eye, “I’m taking him to see his brother. That’s it.”

Aaron tilted his head, a look of confusion on his face, “But, it’s plain as day. You know about me and Eric and you’re fine with it. The way you look at each other. And ya’ll shared a bed last night.” He ticked off all his evidence. 

Throwing the bag of grain in the corner with the rest of his stuff, Rick turned and walked back to the shop. “He slept on the floor.”

Daryl could sense Rick’s mood had changed as soon as he walked into the tiny kitchen. Eric wasn’t so lucky.

“Daryl and I were just talking about you all making this a regular stop on your route.” He said brightly as he put the roast in the middle of the table.

Rick pulled out a chair and set down heavily, “Won’t be necessary. This was a one time deal.”

Eric looked at Daryl in bafflement, “But I thought....”

“We thank you for your hospitality. We’ll be leaving first light.” Rick cut off as he reached for a napkin.

Aaron had come in as Rick was sitting down and caught Eric’s eye, giving a short shake of his head. They shared a silent conversation before Eric turned to Rick and smiled brightly, “I made you some biscuits to take with you, that hardtack is barely fit for eating.”

Rick only nodded his head and then stayed out of the rest of the conversation that Eric was valiantly trying to keep going. Talk of local politics and the new shipments of beads to come in not holding his attention. He left the table at the first opportunity. 

Daryl found him later in the room they were sharing, staring out the window, “Rick, Eric is upset that he angered you.”

Rick turned to look over his shoulder, but didn’t meet Daryl’s eyes. “Not angry at Eric.”

“You were disrespectful to him. Eric deserves respect, Rick.”

“Why, because he made us dinner?”

Daryl joined Rick at the window, “Eric is he'émáné'e and should be respected.”

Rick snorted through his nose, “He is not. He dresses and talks like a man.”

“The Cheyenne, they would respect him as he'émáné'e, the white world would not. He would be a wise person, a person that would talk and help men to overcome arguments,” an edge of anger had crept into Daryl’s voice.

“I’ll apologize to him in the morning. We’ve got a long way ahead of us, so we best be heading to bed.”  Rick said as he turned to the bed.

Daryl shook his head, but started getting ready for bed anyway. Not shy around Rick, he took his clothes off and cleaned himself using the basin of water on the dresser before dumping the dirty water out the window. 

Rick had taken off his boots and was down to his small clothes when Daryl climbed in the bed. Taking a cue from Daryl, Rick refilled the basin and cleaned himself, feeling Daryl’s eyes on him the whole time. His basin of dirty water followed Daryl’s and then Rick doused the light and got into bed, staying as close to the edge as possible.

He hoped that there wouldn’t be a repeat of last night with the banging on the wall. He still wasn’t very sure what had happened, but now he no longer wanted to know. He only had to keep Daryl on a leash for another week or so until they got to Laramie and the federal prison. He wasn’t sure that Merle was there, but there really wasn’t anywhere else he would be. 

Daryl turned over in the bed, facing Rick. It was a long moment before he spoke, reaching a hand out and touching Rick’s hip, “Rick…”

But Rick jerked away, nearly falling out of the bed, “Don’t wanna do any of that stuff tonight. ‘M too tired.”

Another long pause before he spoke,“Ok Rick, good night,” Daryl said and rolled over and faced the window.

Rick took a deep breath and tried to clear his mind. The sooner he got to sleep, the sooner it would be morning and the sooner they would be on their way. And then he was that much closer to home and his children. And Lori. 

The pang he usually felt when he thought of her was mostly gone now. It had been near on eight months since she passed, but he knew there would always be an ache.  J ust one more week and he could be done and on his way home, his promise to Lori fulfilled. And Rick would never leave his children again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? Is Daryl letting Rick get away with too much? Or is he just waiting for Rick to figure it out?


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damn, ya'll are _pissed_ at Rick! Lol. Be patient with him!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, and always, thanks to the luminescent [KatyTheInspiredWorkaholic](%E2%80%9D).

Rick fingered the blue flowered cotton between his fingers. There wasn’t enough of it left to even make a shirt out of it. And there was a small pile in a rainbow of colors just like it. Not quite enough for to make anything, but too much for a rag. And it was all good quality fabric. 

But the thing with the blue fabric was that it reminded him of Eric’s blue apron he wore last night. And then that made him remember the sunny yellow one that Lori always wore. Her’s had pockets that were made from a slightly different shade of yellow with little red flowers all over it. She’d made it herself after they’d been married a year or two and added the pockets after Carl had been born, said she didn’t have enough hands anymore. 

He carefully gathered the pile up and went in search of Eric, finding him putting up a small bag of beads in the front of the store.

Eric looked behind him at the sound of boots on the worn wooden floor, “Oh, hi Rick.”

“Hi Eric.” Rick paused, meeting Eric’s eyes, “I’d like to apologize for my behavior last night. It was uncalled for.”

“Oh, It’s ok. I shouldn’t have presumed.” 

“No, I didn’t give you any reason to think otherwise.” Rick held out the fabric, “Listen, I’ve got all this fabric left over and, well, to be honest, I can’t sell it. And this blue one here, I think it would make some fine pockets on your apron.”

Eric swallowed and reached for the fabric, “Thank you, Rick. I... I uh, do need pockets on my apron.”

“So, we good?” Rick asked as he looked out the plate glass of the store front.

“Yeah, we’re good.” Eric said.

“Thank you again for your hospitality, I’ll stop by if I come through again,” Rick said as he headed to the door.

“That would be nice. You, and Short Arrow, are always welcome.” Eric said with a smile.

Rick paused, a thousand thoughts running through his head about what he was going to do about Daryl, but only said, “Mighty kind of you.”

Daryl was there, out front of the store, loading up Nick with the tent and the rest of the supplies. They’d talked about what to do with Biter, but since she was a Cheyenne horse she probably wouldn’t sell in the horse market. So they were going to take her with them for now. And Rick had taken a liking to her - not that he would tell Daryl. 

They left town, headed West for Laramie and the state , prison two days travel away. It was getting late in the season and Rick didn’t want to waste anymore time. The wheat harvest would be ready in just a few weeks and he needed to be home. 

It was just past noon when they stopped by a creek to water the horses and have a quick bite. Daryl hadn’t said much and neither had Rick. It was nice.

But now Daryl was looking around curiously. 

“What?” Rick asked.

“You said you lived in Kansas.” 

Rick licked his lips before answering, “Yeah, I do.”

“Is Kansas not East?” Daryl asked.

“We’ve been on the trail all day and you just now notice we’re not going East?” Rick laughed.

“I did not want to shame you. You were a tracker in the Army, so you should know where you are going.”  

Rick pulled Walker’s head away from the creek, least he drink too much, “I know where I’m going.”

“That is good, because I don’t,” Daryl said as he mounted Roamer.

They traveled another hour before Rick worked up the courage to tell Daryl where exactly they were going. 

“Going to the state prison to see your brother.” Daryl pulled up Roamer’s head and stopped to stare at Rick. “I made a promise. You don’t have to stay, but at least meet with him so he knows you are all right.”

“He does not care about me.” Daryl said through clenched teeth.

Rick sighed, “He does care. He was on his way to get you when I found him.”

Daryl bit his lip for a moment then said, “I do not wish to go to this prison.”

“I’m not really looking forward to it either, but I promised him and I promised Lori and I ain’t never gone back on a promise to my wife.” Rick said determinedly.

“You are an honorable man, Rick Grimes.” 

Rick didn’t have anything to say to that, the guilt of leading Daryl on washing over him, so he just nodded once and clucked for Walker to continue along the rough road. They could be at the prison this time tomorrow if they kept going until sundown.

Daryl finally called a halt about an hour before Rick was ready, but the horses were done, he could see that. Nick’s head was hung low and Biter had a dull glaze to her eyes. 

Rick set up camp as Daryl left to hunt for meat for their dinner. There was still some food that Eric had forced on them, but fresh meat was always welcome. The fire was burning brightly when Daryl came back with a couple of rabbits.

Again, they worked quietly, Daryl on skinning the rabbits and getting them ready for the spit, Rick unloading the horses and checking them over before bedding them down with some feedbags attached to his two , and letting Biter and Roamer have their head to forage what they would.

Rick would have preferred to sleep outside, under the stars, but it was just too cold. So after dinner was cleaned up he stretched his legs for a bit and then crawled into the tent. He was suddenly as worn out as the horses.

It was late when Daryl came into the tent, much later than Rick expected. He wouldn’t have noticed except after Rick had taken off his boot s and as much clothing as the cold night would allow, he’d lain awake worried about going to the prison. 

He knew that the prison would be quite a shock to Daryl. The men that were there were all mean and hard -   they  had to be to survive. And while Daryl was man enough to take on a bear, Rick wasn’t so sure he could handle a prison yard full of the type of men that Merle now lived and worked with. Men who killed for sport and had no respect for life.

And now the man that filled his thoughts was crawling into the tent to lay beside Rick. The cold weight of guilt lay heavy in his stomach so he didn’t pull away when Daryl’s hand crept over his body. Nor did he stop Daryl from kissing his neck or covering Rick’s body with his own. 

“Do you still want to know what Aaron and Eric were doing?” Daryl whispered in Rick’s ear.

“I…” Rick was going to say no, was going to just let Daryl do what Daryl usually did. But Rick had a lot to make up for, even if Daryl didn’t know it yet. “I do,” he whispered back.

Daryl let out a low moan that Rick had never heard him make before, but there was no way he could focus on why because Daryl was rocking his hips into Rick’s and doing that thing to his neck that made Rick forget why this could be a terrible mistake. 

The hands on his body were not new, the kisses that trailed from his neck  further south were not either. Daryl naked and straddling Rick was new, with more of his body in contact with Rick than they’d usually allowed. 

Rick had never been so overwhelmed by Daryl before, their bodies were fused from chest down and the slow grind made Rick’s own hips buck up despite his normal restraint. He still had most of his clothes on, but Rick felt a new rawness, something was different this time. Daryl seemed more intense, more  _ there _ .

He didn’t even notice the chill in the air when his shirt came off, Daryl had worked the buttons open and bit and nipped along as he went. Or when the front of his pants were opened, leaving Rick nearly bare. But Daryl didn’t stop with just exposing Rick’s sex to the air, he pulled and tugged until Rick was as bare as Daryl.

He was back to straddling Rick, his mouth firmly attached to Rick’s neck and his cock rubbing hard along Rick’s own. His hands moved of their own accord, creeping along until they just touched the outside of Daryl’s firm thighs. 

“Yes, touch me, Rick. Please touch me.” Daryl moaned.

Rick wanted to snatch his hands away, to not participate so that he could tell himself that it was just something he let Daryl do to him, but the feel of Daryl, the smell of Daryl, the raw want swirling off Daryl was too much and Rick found his hands drifting farther up until they were grasping at Daryl’s backside. Daryl moaned again, low and long. 

The tent was suddenly hot and humid, nearly too much to bear. Rick’s head drifted back and his breath came in short gasps, if this is what Aaron and Eric were doing, Rick could understand why the bed had been banging so hard. 

Daryl put his fingers on Rick’s mouth and breathed, “Lick them. Make them wet.”

Rick paused, Daryl had had Rick in his mouth plenty, but it had never been the other way around. And Rick wasn’t sure what to think about that right now, but by the way he felt, anything Daryl did now would be astonishing. So Rick complied and opened his mouth and sucked in the fingers that Daryl offered him. 

Rick wasn’t sure why he was doing what he was doing, but he wouldn’t deny it was an experience he was willing to have again. He may have actually whimpered when Daryl pulled them free, only to have them show up next to where Rick was holding Daryl tight and then dipping lower.

Daryl lifted himself up and had one hand behind him and used the other one to stroke their cocks together. Rick could just make out Daryl’s outline in the dimness of the tent, chest heaving and both arms moving in tandem. It was beautiful and it was sexy and it was confusing. 

But then Daryl stopped and rustled around in his bag and then Rick caught a wiff of bear grease and sweet grass. Daryl went back to what he had been doing for a minute or two and then lifted himself up and grabbed Rick’s cock in a firm hand and slowly dropped down on it. Rick’s hands fell away from Daryl’s ass to his thighs again, too shocked to hold on. 

“Daryl, what…?” Was all Rick could get out before he was engulfed in a warm, tight heat like he’d never felt before. “Oh my god,” he just managed to say between his clenched teeth as he realized where he had ended up. He had never -  _ never  _ even thought about doing th is .

The overpowering urge to buck into that heat was forestalled by Daryl’s quiet plea of, “Wait.”

So Rick gritted his teeth hard er and let Daryl control the movement. The outline of his body quivering as he worked himself in shallow thrusts down Rick’s erection. The grip that had been barely there on Daryl’s legs now so tight that Rick would surely leave bruises.

Rick was patient, he let Daryl take his time as he slowly seated himself on Rick. The feeling such sweet torture that Rick wasn’t sure if he wanted it to end or never wanted it to stop. Daryl put a hand to his own now slightly softened cock, slowly stroking it back to hardness before raising up just a bare inch before going back down. 

He repeated this several times, the small movements, before finally gasping out and bringing himself up further on Rick’s cock before sliding back down. Each time harder and faster than the last until Rick dug his heels into the ground and took over the rhythm. 

Daryl cried out at the change, falling forward on one hand, hovering over Rick. His other hand was still working his cock at a pace that matched Rick’s hard thrusts.

And then, without a conscious thought, Rick flipped them so that Daryl was on his back and Rick was over him. The angle was off now, and Rick unable to keep the connection. But then Daryl hooked his knees back with his hands and tilted back enough that Rick was able to plunge back in. 

“Ah, Rick!” Daryl cried out. 

Rick couldn’t hold back any longer, it had been so long since he’d been inside someone. There was nothing to compare it to. The other things that Daryl had done had been great, but this was exquisite and too much for Rick to continue to be passive.

He looked down and saw that Daryl’s head was thrown back much like Rick’s had been before. Daryl’s cock was hard and bounced with every thrust of Rick’s hips. Without thought, again, Rick adjusted so that he could palm Daryl in his hand. 

Daryl hollered out and seized up, the warmth of his release spurting all over and catching on Rick’s hand. The spasm of Daryl’s ass when he orgasmed was enough to drag Rick over the edge with him. He gave a few more shallow thrusts before collapsing on Daryl, seeking out his mouth for a slow and easy open mouthed kiss - only their second. 

It wasn’t until Rick’s heart beat slowed down that he realized that he was sprawled across Daryl with all of Daryl’s limbs wrapped around him. He carefully extricated himself and laid down beside Daryl in the small tent, pulling the blanket around himself.

“I didn’t even know you could do that,” he finally whispered.

Daryl barked out a short laugh and pulled on the blanket for himself.

“I figured that would hurt.”

“If it is not done the right way, it will hurt. And the first time is not always…” Daryl waved his hand around looking for the right word.

“Pleasant?” Rick offered.

Daryl nodded his head, “Pleasant. But if it is done the right way, it’s very nice.”

Rick thought back to seeing Daryl’s cock reacting to the hard thrusts, but also to how long it took Daryl to be ready for them. “What do you have to do?”

Putting his hand over his face in embarrassment, Daryl answered, “You have to prepare yourself and you need to make it...wet.”

“And it feels good?” Rick wasn’t sure why he was so curious, but the whole process was a mystery to him.

“Yes, Rick. Could you not tell?”

“I suppose I could at that. Do you always do it that way?”

“What way?” Daryl asked.

Rick swallowed and was thankful for the darkness to hide his own embarrassment, “Do you always...I don’t know...act like the woman?”

Daryl snorted, “Do I look like a woman?”

“Well, no. But I don’t know how else to ask.”

Daryl rolled over and put a hand on Rick’s chest, “No Rick, I usually do not ‘act like the woman’. This was the first time.”

“Oh.” 

“Next time I will be the one who gives and you will be the one who...takes, yes?” Daryl asked, his mouth a hair’s breadth from Rick’s.

A quick flash of leaving Daryl at the prison flared through Rick’s mind, and knowing tonight was going to be their last night together he said, “Yeah, ok.”

Daryl pressed his lips to Rick’s in an intense, but short, kiss before rolling over and settling down for sleep. 

Rick’s mind was all over the place, thoughts of Daryl being left behind at the prison the next day the most prominent , and why it felt like someone gouged a hole in Rick’s heart a close second.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized...there's a lot of sex in this fic. Is it too much? You can tell me...
> 
> And what do you think about Rick's final thoughts there? Do you think he's coming around and realize he might be falling for Daryl?


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Merle's back! And another fun guy. ;)
> 
> Ok, so apparently there's no such thing as too much sex. Lol, how silly of me!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KatyTheInspiredWorkaholic is like a light in the distance on a stormy night.

The prison was only a half day’s ride from where they had camped, so Rick planned on being back at the same camp spot th at evening. He’d push his horses a bit to do it, but he wanted to be home so bad he could taste it in the back of his throat like one of Lori’s bad flapjacks. And as much as he had taken a shine to Biter, he’d leave her behind with Daryl since she technically belonged to the last village they had stayed in. 

His promise would be fulfilled as soon as he got Daryl to meet his brother. What Daryl did after that was up to Daryl. He was a grown man and he could get himself back to the reservation if that’s what he wanted to do. Go back to Cheyenne, or stay around the prison to wait for Merle to get out, but he didn’t need to come home with Rick.

And if Daryl did find his way to Rick’s homestead after, then Rick would welcome him like anyone else that showed up on Rick’s doorstep. They had spent a few weeks together on the trail and Daryl had been invaluable during the trading. Maybe Rick owed him for that. So Rick would certainly invite the man in for dinner if he showed up. But Rick didn’t think that would happen, more like Daryl would curse him for leading him on and  would never want to see Rick again. Hopefully Daryl would eventually forgive him for getting left behind after what had happened in the tent this morning. 

Rick had woken up before Daryl, the tent still bathed in the early morning grey. Daryl had been curled up at Rick’s side, a hand casually laying on Rick’s stomach, fingers curled into the dark hair there. Rick couldn’t stop his body from reacting to the sight. 

He closed his eyes and tried to imagine Hershel naked, but the memory of Daryl naked and above him crowded out all other thoughts. And the feel of Daryl - Rick craved more of it. He couldn’t admit to himself that he should have been touching Daryl all along, but now Daryl’s plea of “Please touch me, Rick,” looped in his brain like a nickelodeon.  

Daryl stirred awake and sat up on his elbow, drawing his hand away. He said nothing, just looked at Rick. It hit him then, the way Daryl was looking at Rick. It wasn’t just lust or want, it was the look that Rick imagined he had always given Lori. He felt it all the way to his toes, Daryl was in love with him.

So Rick did what he’d tried to avoid in this whole endeavor, he reached for Daryl. Pulled him close and kissed him. Held him like a lover, touched him in all the places that Rick had been touched, put his mouth all the places that Daryl had kissed. Rick made love to Daryl with his hands and mouth, out of guilt or a private goodbye he didn’t know, but he knew he owed it to Daryl. 

They didn’t do what they had done last night, but Rick tried his hand at all the other things that Daryl had done to him. And by the way Daryl was moaning and writhing around, Rick figured he was doing it right. Putting his mouth on Daryl’s cock for the first time was a shock to them both. For Rick it wasn’t as abhorrent as he thought it would be, for Daryl it was the unexpected teeth. 

“Sorry, this is my first time,” Rick said from his position between Daryl’s legs. 

Daryl’s eyes were glazed over and only barely able to focus on Rick, “No. No, it is ok, Rick. It’s fine. Just be careful and...please don’t stop.” 

Rick chuckled and went back to his task, trying to remember all the things that Daryl had done to him over the last couple of weeks. He had to put a hand to himself, his own cock hard as a rock. But he didn’t want Daryl to have to take care of it, so he did it himself. He developed a pace that had him palming himself in the same rhythm as he was taking care of Daryl. And he suddenly realized why Daryl seemed to like it so much. Something about the feel of him in his mouth and the fresh, earthy smell of him all around Rick. There was no way Rick would ever be able to put this out of his mind.  

It wasn’t long until they both spent, Daryl pulling Rick’s head away so that he could finish himself and Rick making a mess of the blanket when he came. 

Daryl had actually smiled all through the morning after that, anyone who saw him would know he’d just had sex. Good thing the only people that had seen him were Rick and the horses. Although Biter did give Daryl a hard eye when he got too close.

The outskirts of Laramie were just ahead and the prison not too far off. The city was growing fast, with newly built buildings all around them as they rode through town. Some of the locals gave Daryl a long look, but Daryl ignored them and as long as they didn’t start anything, Rick was willing to let it pass.

The prison itself was a brick building, unusual for the territory, and rose up out of the  grassy plain like a nightmarish gingerbread house. There was a stockade built around the sides and back, leaving the front a flat wall of brick and glass. 

Glancing up at the sky, Rick guessed it to be a little past noon and hoped that the prisoners had already eaten their lunch. Everyone was happier with a full belly. Rick led the horses to the creek that ran a few yards in front of the prison, he could water the horses while he and Daryl had their own lunch.

They’d left most of their valuable things hidden back at the campsite, Rick didn’t trust that the warden or his guards wouldn’t confiscate anything they damn well pleased. So what cash he had and most of their leftover trade goods were buried in the  tall  grass a little ways from where they’d slept.

“I don’t know how this is going to go. Ain’t never been here. Might have to grease some hands or do some favors. That’s if we can get in to see him.” Rick explained to Daryl.

Daryl stood from where he was squatted to eat, “If we do not see him, I do not care. I am here because you ask it of me.”

Rick could only nod his head, the clawing in his gut too overpowering to allow him to speak.

They had no trouble getting in to see the warden, Philip Blake. He was a tall man with a patch over his right eye, a swagger to rival Rick’s, and charm for days. Rick could see right through him.

The smiles, the warm handshakes, even the way he looked at Daryl was all a put on and Rick didn’t trust the man any further than he could throw ‘em.

“So you’re here to see Merle Dixon?” He asked from behind his large desk.

“Yeah, Daryl here is his brother.” Rick had convinced Daryl it would be easier to get in and get out if they went with his western name instead of his tribal name.

“Oh, that’s fine. Fine indeed. I like ‘ol Merle. He ain’t been here more’na month and he’s already a model prisoner and a role model for the rest of the inmates.” 

Rick had a hard time imagining Merle bending to the rules that easily. He narrowed his eyes at the warden, “So, can we see him today?”

“Sure thing, Mr. Grimes. I’ll have my man Shumpert take you to see him. He’s out in the exercise yard right now,” he said as he waved to the freedman standing in the corner.

Blake got up and led them to another room that looked to be some sort of reception room to wait while he sent his man to find Merle. They didn’t wait too long before they could hear Merle coming down the hallway long before he got to the room.

“Aww, don’t be fooling me now, Shumpert. I ain’t seen my baby brother since he was knee high to a grasshopper. I ain’t gonna stand for it if you’re pulling my leg.” 

Rick chanced a glance at Daryl to see him looking right back with a look of pained resolution. Before Rick could reached out to him Merle burst into the room all bluster and bravado. 

“Well if it ain’t my old friend the bounty hunter! Knew I could count on you to follow through! Did ya find my baby brother?” Merle cast his eyes around the room. One eye, the other was swollen shut.

Rick pointed at Daryl, “Right here.”

Merle looked at Daryl, scrutinizing him from head to toe, “That ain’t my baby brother, that’s a damn injun!”

Daryl snorted and turned to leave, but Rick darted out a hand and caught him before he left the room. “This here is your brother.”

“Naw, this guy’s too old! My brother is just a kid.” Merle insisted.

Rick sighed, “When was the last time you saw your brother?”

“A’fore I left for the army.”

“And how old was he then?” Rick had let Daryl’s arm go, but was still close in case he still had plans on leaving. 

“I dunno, ten maybe?” Merle said in exasperation.

“And how long ago was that?” Rick asked.

The question seemed to stump Merle. 

It was Daryl that answered, “More than twenty years.”

Merle’s one good eye darted to Daryl again. He stepped closer to inspect Daryl better, reaching out a hand to move some errant hairs out of the way. He focused on the mole right about Daryl’s lip.

“Well I’ll be dipped. You are my brother, ain’t ya.”

Daryl gave a short nod, but didn’t say anything.

Merle spread his arms wide, “Give ‘ol Merle a hug, won’t cha baby brother?”

Daryl looked to Rick before hesitantly stepping into his brother’s embrace. He didn’t hug Merle back, just stood stiffly as he waited to be release. Merle didn’t even notice. 

“Damn Grimes, didn’t think you could do it! I guess you want to collect now, huh?”

Rick shook his head, he had clean forgot about Merle offering the stolen loot from the bank robbery. He didn’t want it for himself, but he’d be willing to turn it into the Army. The fort wasn’t far, but he had no idea where the money was.

“I’d be willing to retrieve the money to give back to the Army,” Rick said.

Merle laughed and waved a hand, “Sure, sure. Good, upstanding man like yourself wouldn’t keep the money. I bet there’d be a reward in it for you. Bet the wife would appreciate that.” And here he made a thrusting motion with his hips.

Rick took a step forward, anger painted across his face, but Daryl put an arm out and stopped him. “Rick’s wife is gone.”

Merle looked contrite, “Sorry Grimes, didn’t mean no disrespect. Maybe you could use it to find a pretty little thing to take her place.”

“Merle,” Daryl warned.

“What? He’s still in the prime of his life. Ain’t no reason for him to be a saint.”

“Enough, we ain’t here to talk about me. You wanted me to find your brother and bring him to you and I did. Now tell him whatever it was that you wanted to tell him or whatever,” Rick said in exasperation. 

“It’s private!”

Rick put up his hands to show he would back away. Daryl gave him a slightly panicked look, but Rick motioned to the doorway, “I’ll be right here.” 

Both men seemed satisfied, so Rick turned and settled himself just outside the door. Shumpert seemed to have disappeared too, no longer looming behind Merle.

It was only a few minutes before Daryl came into the room where Rick was waiting, a blank look on his face. Rick was damn curious to know what Merle had had to say, but he wouldn’t push Daryl.

But Daryl did want to talk, so Rick listened when he said, “He wanted to apologize for being gone. Wanted me to  _ understand _ . He just wanted me to call him brother. He wanted me to write him letters and wait for him to leave this place. He said we could go to San Fransisco and be rich men. I do not want those things.” 

“I’m sure if you gave him another chance he’d explain himself better. He’s very persuasive - convinced me to come after you!” Rick had to remember Daryl needed to stay here, with his brother, so he had to persuade the man to do so.

Daryl started off down the hall, “No, I do not want to see him again. His eye, it looks like that because he fights. Because he likes it and makes money. He is not the kind of person I want to call brother.”

“Well, maybe you can sleep on it and give him another chance.” Rick said, trying to keep his voice from betraying his mixed emotions as he followed Daryl.

“I do not need to sleep on it. We can go, he told me where he hid the money.”

“Daryl, I am not interested in tromping all over god and creation looking for that money. I think you need to stay here and get to know your brother.”

“It is not all of...whatever you said. It is where the Cheyenne found me. Where my father killed my mother, and I can find it,” Daryl said in a huff.

“Daryl, I don’t give two shakes about that money. Sure, we can turn it in, but wouldn’t you like to talk to your brother more? Maybe he can tell you more about your ma or help you find some other relatives.” Rick pleaded.

“No. He can tell me nothing that I do not know. I would like to leave.” Daryl said as they turned the last corner before the front door that they had come in just a short while ago. 

Blake was waiting for them near the entrance when they tried to leave, Shumpert and another man behind him.

“Hold on a minute there fellas. Seems like there’s been a bit of a problem with Daryl here,” he said.

Rick tilted his head to the side, “Problem?”

The warden pasted on a greasy smile, “Well, it seems like Daryl here is off the reservation illegally.”

Daryl narrowed his eyes, “There is no law that says I must stay on the reservation.”

“Ah, but you see there is. Natives can’t be off the reservation without the written permission of the agent of the reservation.” Blake gestured toward Daryl, “And since you don’t have that, I’m going to have to keep you here.” 

Rick stepped forward, Blake’s henchmen mimicking his step, “You have no authority to detain him. He’s not even a Cheyenne.”

“Ah, ah, ah, Mr. Grimes. Don’t want to have to detain you as well for threatening an officer of the peace. Not when you have a job to do. And he sure looks like a Cheyenne to me.”

“Job?” Rick asked suspiciously.

“Well, to get Merle’s ill gotten money of course!” Blake laughed. The two men behind him joining in. 

Rick tilts his head again and stepped even closer, “What do you know about that?”

The warden leaned in to whisper in Rick’s ear, “I know enough.”

“Why do you even care?” Rick asked, but he knew the answer.

“Why do I care? I just told you, I’m an officer of the peace and as such, you can turn that money into me and I will see that it gets to where it belongs.” 

Rick steps back and looks between Daryl and Blake, “But when I get the money back here, Daryl can go?”

“Daryl can go if I say he can go, but he might be done with his time by then.” Blake rakes his eyes up and down Daryl’s body, “He looks like he’s in fine fighting shape, I’m sure he’ll be great in the arena.”

Rick’s whole body rocked with a chill. Daryl would be held captive here until Rick brought the money back, and in danger of being beaten to a pulp the whole time. He looked to Daryl then, he had planned on leaving him here, but not as a prisoner. Not like this.

Daryl was taking long slow breaths in an effort to calm himself, Rick had so rarely seen him angry, but this was a man that had bested a bear, surely he would be okay here in a prison for a few days.

“What do you say Rick? Are you gonna do the right thing and turn that money in? Or is Daryl going to have to stay here until he can get an agent to sign his paper?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Katy told me I was evil, but that she loves me. Sooo...
> 
>  
> 
> Also, AO3 randomly decided I can't link to other pages any more. Yay


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you all think Rick would do? Leave Daryl there to his fate, or ride cross country to find stolen money? And really, it that even a question?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KatyTheInspiredWorkaholic is who I want to be if I ever decide to grow up.

Rick’s stomach had never been in such a knot. Leaving Daryl behind at the prison , at the mercy of the warden and his men , had been much harder than he’d figured. He  _ knew _ Daryl could take care of himself, especially with Merle there looking out for him, but Rick couldn’t shake the sight of Merle’s black eye.

He rode past the place they had spent the night, where Daryl had done those things and where Rick had finally done what he should have done sooner. The half day’s ride had left him plenty of time to think.

Mostly about what an ass he would be if he left Daryl there like he had planned. Sure, the stakes were much higher now, Daryl was inside the prison, not outside, but walking out of the prison had made Rick aware that leaving him there would be a terrible decision. 

The other horses had been left at a corral back in Laramie, so Rick could push as hard as he had when he was after Merle over a year ago. Walker seemed to feel Rick’s urgency and kept to a fast trot. 

Daryl’s childhood home was a week from Laramie if Rick went by way of Cheyenne, but he was going to go cross country in hopes of cutting a few days off, the thought of Daryl fighting men worse than Merle in the back of his mind. And Rick wouldn’t put it past the warden to pit Daryl against the worst, most hardened criminals just because he could. 

He rode until the light faded and rose with the dawn, stopping only to sleep and to give Walker a break. He ate and drank in the saddle. The farther from Daryl he got the more the knot in his stomach turned into a writhing thing that made sleep hard and eating damn near impossible.

It was the fourth day out when he found the turn that Daryl had pointed out that led to his childhood home. Daryl had given no indication how far down the buffalo trace the burned down house was, but it couldn’t be more than a day’s ride.

One day turned into two, and almost three as Rick slowed his pace and scrutinized each and every thicket he came across. Since it had been nearly twenty years since Daryl had laid eyes on it, Rick figured it would be gone and  turned to  dust by now. 

It was the two wooden crosses materializing in the early evening gloom that led Rick to the long abandoned farm. He could barely make out anything in the quickly fading light and gave only a moment's thought to looking in the dark. It would have to wait until morning - another day that Daryl had to stay in that place.

The next morning was spent wandering all over the grounds, looking for any clue of where Merle might have stashed the money. Trees with hollows, rock out croppings, under bushes, Rick even found the remnants of an outhouse - all fruitless. The sun rose higher in the sky as he grew more desperate. 

He couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that Merle could have been lying. That he’d stashed the money somewhere completely different and had sent Rick on a wild goose chase. But then he remembered that Merle had told Daryl before he knew the warden was going to want to keep it for himself. Merle only had to do ten years and probably hoped that the money would be safer with Daryl than wherever he’d stashed. Or maybe he hoped it would make Daryl more sympathetic to Merle and welcome the con back into his life. 

It was well past noon and Rick’s third time searching the ruins of the main house when he’d decided to take a break. The tree he collapsed under was right next to the two graves, their light grey crosses contrasting with the brown of the tree. 

Rick put his back to the tree and stretched out his legs, careful not to put his feet in the slight mound of earth in front of the cross closest to him, his thoughts swirling back to Daryl. The look of grim determination on his face as he watched Rick leave always at the forefront. 

He should be thinking about his kids, the ones he hadn’t seen in months. He could just go on home, no one would be the wiser. It wasn’t like the money was actually going to be turned into the authorities. His obligation was done, he’d reunited Merle with his baby brother, even if they were both stuck in a prison in the middle of Wyoming territory. 

Rick almost got up to get on Walker and head home. But he didn’t have Nick or the last of the trade goods. And then there was Biter to think of, she probably hated being stuck in that corral. He shuddered to think what would happen to Roamer. A free spirited horse like that would have a hard time of it. 

He dug a heel into the ground, still mindful of the grave. He was only kidding himself. It was Daryl he didn’t want to leave behind, Daryl that hadn’t left his thoughts, Daryl that made his chest hurt. The look on Daryl’s face that last morning in the tent, what he’d said with his eyes if not his mouth, a stab to Rick’s heart.

“I think I love him,” Rick whispered to the two silent grave markers. 

They didn’t respond of course. Rick didn’t even know which was for Daryl’s mother and which was for his father. The neatly nailed boards blank with just a touch of rust from the nails leaking down their front. 

Rick sighed deeply and ran his eyes around the farm again, wondering where Merle could have hidden all that money. The nearly gone house and outbuildings giving up nothing and all the other potential sites empty as well.

His eyes wandered back to the two graves in front of him. It just occurred to him that someone must have come back later and taken care of the bodies considering the graves looked much fresher than the ruins. 

Rick narrowed his eyes at the markers again. The wood was only slightly grey, and hadn’t warped much for being out in the elements for years. And usually the ground concaved a bit over a grave after a few years. 

But these graves looked much fresher, like they’d only been there a year or so, maybe two at the most judging by how much dirt was still mounded up. 

“Son of a bitch,” Rick cursed in frustration as he got up to get the shovel from Walker’s pack.

Two hours and an encyclopedia’s worth of cursing later, Rick dug out two large canvas bags of money. Of course Merle would be so low as to bury the money in what looked like his parents’ graves. Rick mentally put another hash mark on the side against Merle. 

Soon enough he had Walker all laden down with the money and Rick’s gear. He had a few good hours of daylight left and he didn’t want to waste any of them. 

He’d tried to push harder on the way back, but money was heavy and the added weight slowed Walker down no matter how much the horse wanted to hurry. Rick tried walking beside his horse, but it didn’t make them go any faster so he gave up and ditched the shovel and his tent instead.

It took nearly two weeks all told. Two weeks of Daryl being stuck in that hell hole. Two weeks of Rick alternately hating himself and hating Merle Dixon. Two weeks of a knot in his stomach to rival the Gordian knot.

***

It was late when he got back to the prison, nearly dusk. But he didn’t let it deter him, Daryl would be walking out of that prison tonight no matter what. Rick wouldn’t even rule out using his gun if he had to.

He could just hear the sounds of men yelling and carrying on inside the prison. Worried, Rick rushed through the front door, hoping there wasn’t a riot going on. Daryl did not need to be in the middle of that.

No one was in the office, so Rick dropped off the money bags behind the desk and worked his way through the building the way that they’d gone to see Merle when he’d been  t here before. He went past the room where they’d talked to Merle and out to a blocked off space in the yard.

The prisoners were in a circle around two other men fighting, Rick couldn’t see who, just the tops of their heads. He scanned the crowd looking for Daryl or Merle, but didn’t see either.  He did see Blake sitting above the crowd, his two men behind him and a pretty brunette on his lap.  

Rick looked for a path to where Blake was so he could give him his damn money and get the hell out of there. But Blake saw Rick first and motioned Shumpert to go fetch Rick. 

The warden was all smiles as Rick climbed the steps to the watchpost that was commandeered as a grandstand. “Mr. Grimes! So glad you could make it back. I was getting worried you’d forgotten about our deal.”

“Didn’t forget,” Rick said as his eyes swept down to the crowd. Despite the torches lit around the area he still couldn’t see who was fighting, the dust and the quickly fading light obscuring the two men fighting viciously. 

“Well, you were gone so long your friend down there got restless. Had to find something for him to do ‘sides hang out with his brother. Those two fought like two cats in a bag. Did you know he wants to go by his injun name? What was it Shumpert? Something about an arrow?” 

“Short Arrow,” Rick supplied through gritted teeth.

Blake snapped his fingers and pointed at Rick, “That’s it! Short Arrow! Anyway, those two fought so much I finally had to put them in the ring together. I got my money on Merle, but Karen here thinks Short Arrow can best his brother ‘cause he’s part injun.”

Rick stepped closer to the edge of the platform, looking desperately down at the crowd, hoping it wasn’t Daryl and Merle down there doing the fighting. But then he saw a glint of metal on one of the men’s hands, and then a bit of buckskin on the other. He whipped around to the warden.

“Stop this. Stop it now. I have the money. You can let him go.” Rick’s anger and desperation pouring out of him with his demands.

“Aw, come now Mr. Grimes, ain’t nothing wrong with a bit of fisticuffs. I’m sure they’re holding back anyway on account of them being brothers and all,” Blake said with sickly sweet smile.

Just then the crowd let out a roar. Rick turned quickly to see what had excited them and saw Merle straddling Daryl and punching him. Rick couldn’t tell from here if he was holding back, but at least he wasn’t using the hand with the metal piece. 

“Oh, looks like I’m going to win the bet! Karen, you’re gonna have to pay up!” Blake said to the woman on his lap.

She gave him a small twisted smile before draping herself over him even more and hiding her head in his neck.

Rick was seething at the edge of the lookout station, mentally counting the hits, “Make it stop. Merle has surely won, there’s no reason to make it go on.”

Blake gave an apologetic smile, “Can’t do it Grimes, they fight until one of them can’t fight anymore. Now, if they’re lucky, they’ll just pass out. But occasionally we lose one because he can’t give up, if you know what I mean.”  

Rick fingered his revolver in his holster, weighing his options. He could turn around and shoot Blake, but then his men would just shoot him and that wouldn’t free Daryl. He could aim for Shumpert and his associate, a man who looked to be Mexican, but Blake had his own gun and the outcome would be the same; Rick dead and Daryl still locked up.

“Listen, Blake, I got your money. You can let him go.”

“Now Grimes, don’t get confused. You’re turning in the money to an officer of the peace, not just giving it to me. And why do you care so much about this injun you dragged halfway across Wyoming territory for ‘ol Merle Dixon?”

Rick closed his eyes to hide his panic. Surely the man couldn’t see how Rick felt about Daryl. Couldn’t see the desperation to get him back so Rick could show Daryl how he felt. He could, and would, tell Daryl, but he knew Daryl would believe it more if he were shown. And Rick had so much he wanted to show Daryl.

“Made a promise. To my wife. Promised her I would bring Daryl to see his brother.” Rick explained.

“Seems to me you done that part and you’re obligation is done.”

Merle had stopped punching Daryl and was leaning over him, trying to talk to him or seeing if he was still alive, Rick didn’t know.

“Promised Daryl’s adopted family back in Montana that I would keep him safe until he got back.”

Blake laughed long and loud at that, “Don’t you know? No promise to the injuns is binding. Hell, the government promised they could keep their land. You see how that went.”

Rick turned back to the gloating man sitting like a king on his throne, “Daryl lives with the Cheyenne, the government didn’t double cross them. They are still on their own land and observe their own customs. I think they deserve not to be lied to by the likes of me.”

Their eyes locked in a battle of wills that seemed to last forever, the whole of the platform hushed and tense. The crowd below them quieting down as they seemed to sense the tension above them.

Blake pointed a finger at Rick, “I can see that you are a man of integrity. I like that about you. An honorable man. I’d hate to be the reason you went back on your word. So, I tell you what, I’ll let Short Arrow there go as soon as I count the money.”

Rick let out a sigh of relief, but before he could walk away the warden spoke again.

“Now I’ll have to see if I have time to do that this week, got a lot of administrative duties and well, I’m off the clock as soon as the sun goes down,” he said as he looked up at the nearly dark sky.

Rick stepped up to the chair where Blake sat and gave him a cold stare, “You still don’t have the money and I can just take it over to the fort and give it to my friend the quarter-master. You know Abraham Ford, right? He’d be sure to get every penny back to it’s rightful owner. And I’m sure he and his company commander would be very interested in these fights you got going on here.”

Blake’s eyes grew cold as he leaned forward, “You think you’d make it out of here to go tell him?”

Rick didn’t flinch, “If I didn’t make it out of here, you’d never know where the money was.”

Blake scoffed, “It’s somewhere close.” He looked up and down Rick’s dusty body, “You rode straight here. Money’s probably here on the prison grounds already.”

Rick thought furiously before decided to go for broke and lie, “Met Abraham on the other side of town. He knows I’m here. And we’re supposed to have dinner tonight.”

That caused Blake to pause. He gave Rick a long hard stare, trying to break him, but Rick just stared back, the desperation to get Daryl out overriding any other emotion.

“Shumpert will go with you to get the money.”

“No. Shumpert will go fetch Daryl. Your friend Karen can come with me to get the money.”

There was another long moment of tension before Blake laughed long and loud, enough for the prisoners in the yard to look up in curiosity. “You drive a hard bargain Grimes. Alright, Karen can go with you and Shumpert will go get Short Arrow for you. How’s that?”

Rick held out a hand to Karen, Blake nudged her to go, and then Rick led her out through the maze of the prison until they were outside. They stopped a few feet from the entrance, Rick going to Walker and putting a hand on his bridle.

“If you want, you can leave with us. Ain’t no reason for you to stay if you don’t want to.” Rick offered to the woman.

She shook her head, “No. He doesn’t hurt me. And...and my brother is here, in the prison. If I stay then he won’t have to fight. It’s not as bad as the brothel in town. He doesn’t share and the guards aren’t allowed to touch me either.”

“You sure?” Rick asked.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Thank you for thinking of me.”

“Listen,” Rick said, “the money is inside the prison. Under a desk. But I have to get us away from here before they find it. You understand?”

Karen looked at Rick and nodded her head, “I understand. There’s a lot of desks in the prison. I’m so nervous I’m not sure I remember which one it could be.”

Rick snorted, “I didn’t tell you anyway.”

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t already see it.” Her face softened, “I hope that I find someone someday that will fight for me as hard as you are fighting for your man.”

Rick’s eyes widened in surprise, but before he could think of something to say, Shumpert came out with Daryl. A very bruised and bloody Daryl. Rick’s vision turned red and he almost pulled his gun to shoot, but Karen’s hand on his arm stopped him.

“He’s alive but he won’t be if you pull that gun. Get him to town and go see Bob. He’s a freedman, but he knows medicine.”

Rick nodded his head, his teeth clenched so hard he could chip a tooth.

Shumpert dragged Daryl till they were a few feet in front of Rick and then let his burden slump to the ground in a heap. Rick stepped forward to see to him, but Shumpert stopped him.

“Where’s the money?”

Karen stepped forward, “I know where it is. He told me. Come on, let’s go get it. It’s too dark out here.”

She pulled the man along, talking the whole way and keeping the man’s focus on her. Rick took the distraction for what it was, time for him to get the hell out of there. He scooped up Daryl as best he could and put him over Walker’s rump and turned towards the town and this Bob. Rick prayed the man could help Daryl. If not, then Rick would be back in the morning to shoot Blake between the eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Rick got his head out of his ass! All it took was for Daryl to be in mortal danger. 
> 
> Also, Rick was completely bluffing about Abraham, he's not going to go see him at all.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick has admitted to himself that he loves Daryl, but can he tell Daryl? And how _is_ Daryl?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If KatyTheInspiredWorkaholic were any more perfect, she'd walk on water. 
> 
> I can't believe we are nearly done! I want you all to know that I appreciate every comment, kudo, and hit. They make all the work worth it.

Rick cursed as Walker stumbled in the dark. They weren’t far from town. Hell, the town was growing up around the prison, the people attracted by the fort and the prison a strange mix of hustlers and ne’er - do - wells. 

Karen hadn’t told Rick where to find this Bob fellow, so he decided to find a hotel to lay up in for the night. Laramie was a much rougher town th an Cheyenne, so Rick hoped no one would look twice at him carrying in a half dead man.

He needn't have worried though, they’d only gone a few more feet when he felt Daryl move behind him. He threw a hand back to make sure Daryl was still secure, but was surprised when Daryl grabbed his hand.

Rick pulled Walker up short and jumped off, turning back to his precious cargo immediately. 

“Daryl?” He said softly as he put a hand on the man’s back.

“Rick?” Daryl whispered back before sliding slowly off the horse’s back, Rick’s hand still on him to hold him steady. 

Daryl leaned against Walker for a moment before turning to Rick, “I am fine.”

Rick scoffed, “You are not fine. I just saw your brother beat the tar out of you and you’ve been out of it for at least half an hour.”

Rick couldn’t see Daryl, but could feel the man change his stance and look toward Rick, “Merle and I, we had a plan. He would pretend to beat me and I would pretend to be knocked out.”

“You sure as shit looked knocked out to me!”

“Merle may have gotten carried away. But I am fine.”

“You ain’t fine until I say you’re fine.” Rick glanced around him, they seemed to be in a residential part of town, not too many hotels around. But he knew there were more in the city center. “Look, we’re gonna get a hotel for the night and then I’m taking you to a doct...well, to someone to get you looked at.

“Rick, I am fine. I promise.” Daryl rooted around inside his buckskin shirt and pulled out his head band and newly re-earned eagle feather.

“You ain’t and that’s the last I’ll hear of it. Now let’s go. Get back up on Walker, I’ll lead him.”

Daryl made to protest, but seemed to think better of it because he put a foot in the saddle and managed to get himself seated without much help from Rick. They still went slow, Rick taking his time and picking their path as they worked toward the town center to find a place to sleep.

The first hotel that Rick came across was the Double C. It was relatively quiet and looked like a respectable place, so he hoped they’d accept the two of them. Rick was still dusty and sweaty from the trail and Daryl’s clothes were torn and he had blood smeared all over.

Daryl was able to get off Walker and into the hotel lobby under his own power. There wasn’t a saloon in the hotel, so they didn’t have to run the gauntlet of drunk men and painted women on their way to the front desk.

The dark haired woman behind the desk gave Rick a warm smile that quickly changed to a look of distress as she took in the state of Daryl.

“Oh my goodness! Are you ok? Let’s get you in a room. I’ll have Densie come up and look at you. She’s my partner and she studied to be a midwife. I’m sure she can at least make sure you’re not going to bleed to death,” the woman said in a rush.

“I am fine,” Daryl said again.

“You are not! Look at you. You’re dripping blood all over my floor.”

Daryl looked sheepishly down at the few drops of blood around his feet and then attempted to lower himself to clean it up.

The woman hurried from behind the counter, “None of that now. Let’s get you in a bed. Come on.”

“I was told to look for a Bob when I got to town, supposed to be a medical man.” Rick said.

“He left for California a while ago - well a couple of months I guess. But he’s gone.” She said. “I wish he were here, he was a field doctor during the war and he would know what to do, but I’m sure Denise won’t let you die.”

She led them up to a room on the second floor that had a large brass bed and a window out to the street. It was clean and well kept with a dresser and wash basin and pitcher. Rick could just see the chamber pot under the bed.

“You all don’t mind sharing do ya? I mean I have another room, but you look like you’re umm..” She waved her hand between them and looked a bit flustered.

“Yeah, we’re together,” was all Rick said.

Daryl’s eyes lifted to Rick’s in surprise, but didn’t say anything, just sunk down on the bed.

“Um, why don’t you get him out of those grimy clothes and I’ll go get Denise.” The woman turned toward the door, but turned back again with her hand on the doorknob, “I’m Tara by the way. Denise and I, we’re umm, like you.” 

Rick nodded his head in understanding, surprised the woman, Tara, would admit that to total strangers but figured that like calls to like and she could tell what the story was between Rick and Daryl.

He wasted no time in getting Daryl undressed (something he’d learned to be adept at), even if it was done under protest.  _ Rick, I am fine _ . The bruises and cuts weren’t as bad under Daryl’s clothes as they were on his face, but Rick knew there could be things going on inside Daryl’s body that could be bad. He could very easily have a broken rib or damage to his organs. He’d seen men die on the battlefield that looked lively one minute and dead the next from unseen injuries.

Rick filled the basin with water from the pitcher and carefully wiped the blood and dirt from Daryl’s face. They hadn’t even had a chance to talk when there was a knock at the door.

“Um, hello? Tara said you needed some help?” A feminine voice called through the door.  

Rick left his spot next to Daryl and went and opened the door. The woman on the other side had dirty blonde hair and funny round glasses on her face. 

“You Denise?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m not a real doctor, but I can, you know, take a look and make sure he won’t..umm,” here she faltered and waved her hand around in a way that reminded Rick of the other woman, Tara. These two women had been together long enough that they had picked up on each other’s mannerisms. 

“He won’t die?” Rick said as he opened the door wider and let the woman in the room. She carried a small bag that looked a lot like a doctor’s bag and quickly walked over to the bed where Daryl was eyeing her suspiciously.

“Hi, I’m Denise. I’m going to have to touch you, if that’s ok?” She said to Daryl as she put her bag on the bed.

Daryl darted a look to Rick.

“I won’t leave,” Rick assured him.

Daryl gave a short nod, never breaking eye contact with Rick while he was examined. Rick was surprised that Daryl’s expression never changed as Denise quickly ran her hands all over his bruised and battered body. 

She finished up by looking at Daryl’s face and making him look at her while she covered one of his eyes and then the other.

“Ok, the good news is he doesn’t have any broken bones and he doesn’t seem to have any internal bleeding. His face is probably going to swell up a bit more, but it doesn’t look like he has a concussion,  although I won’t be sure of that until tomorrow. He just needs some rest. We can clean him up and hope that infection doesn’t set in anywhere.” 

Rick took a deep breath in relief. Daryl had looked awful in the darkness, but now that Denise had given him a nearly clean bill of health, he knew his lover would be ok. Rick knew he should feel something momentous for thinking of Daryl that way, but he only felt relief. Like he’d figured out a tough puzzle or come home from a long day in the saddle.

“I’ll take care of that,” Rick volunteered.

“Ok, I’ll go boil some water and bring it up to you. And I’ll see if I can find a nightgown for him too.” Denise said as she got up and walked to the door. 

“Thank you kindly,” Rick said as Denise left to room.

He turned back to Daryl and went back to work cleaning.

Daryl grabbed Rick’s hand, “Rick, I can wash myself.”

Rick stopped what he was doing and nodded his head, “I know. But I just want to make sure for myself that you are ok.”

Daryl smiled, “The woman, Denise, she just told you that I am fine.”

“She said she won’t know for sure until tomorrow.”

“Rick, I am fine. Please don't make me tell you again.”

Standing up and pacing around the room, Rick let his agitation show, “Don’t you know how worried I was? All I could think about was you being stuck in that hell hole with that crazy ass warden and your brother that you barely knew.”

Daryl pulled himself up in the bed, but didn’t say anything.

“I almost made Walker go lame I pushed him so hard to get back to you. And then I couldn’t find the damn money. Did you know your asshole brother buried the money and put up grave markers like it was your parents?”

Daryl watched as Rick paced back and forth, still letting the man vent.

“And then I get back to the prison and I couldn’t find you and then that, that,.... _ warden _ had you fighting your brother and making bets with the poor woman he’d conned into his bed about which one of you was gonna die.”

“Rick.”

“I was ready to shoot the place up right then and there, everything else be damned.”

“Rick.”

“And you looked like death and you were passed out and…”

Daryl stood up out of the bed and grabbed Rick as he paced by, “Rick. I love you too.”

Rick stopped, his breath ragged from his rant and agitated pacing. He should answer Daryl, assure him, but the look on Daryl’s face didn’t look like he was questioning Rick, just a peaceful knowing look. 

Instead he pulled a naked Daryl into his arms, holding him tight and breathing in the scent of him, grateful that he could.

Rick didn’t even hear the knock on the door or the creak as it open. He did however, hear the crash of the metal basin of water. He quickly turned and shielded Daryl’s naked body from a surprised Denise.

“I’m so sorry, I knocked, but I guess you didn’t hear me.” She squeaked as she bent to retrieve the basin. “I’ll go get some towels and some more water.” She then turned and fled the room.

Daryl chuckled behind him as Rick felt his cheeks warm up. He was glad that Denise and Tara were ‘like them’ so that the encounter wasn’t even more awkward.

“Let’s get you back in bed and after I get you cleaned up I’ll go down and take care of Walker. He’s had a rough two weeks too,” Rick said as he pulled Daryl to the bed.

Daryl just shook his head and got in the bed. Rick was relieved because even though Daryl thought he was fine, Rick knew he really wasn’t. At the very least the time in the prison would have worn him down, body and soul.

Denise came back and knocked firmly on the door and announced herself in a loud voice. Rick let her in again, not able to meet her eyes. 

She busied herself with setting the water on the dresser and placing the clean rags next to it, “I’ve got some extra rags and a clean gown for him. I think cleaning him up would do a lot to make him, and you, feel better.”

“Thank you again,” Rick said. “Was worried we’d have a hard time finding a place to stay.”

“Well, maybe if you’d gone somewhere else, but Tara and I we only kick out the people that are asses.”

Rick gave a shocked laugh, he’d never heard a respectable lady curse before.

Denise continued, “Tara looks sweet, but she’s a dead shot and she ain’t afraid to get blood on the floor.”

Daryl snorted from the bed, “That is not what she said to me.”

Denise looked at him quizzically, and then offered them a good night and promised to be back in the morning.

Rick wet a rag in the hot water and started to wash Daryl, but Daryl took the rag from him, “Please let me clean myself.”

Nodding his understanding, Rick left Daryl to it and went to see about Walker. Daryl probably hadn’t had a proper bath since he’d been at the prison and would want to take care of it as soon as possible. 

Rick passed Tara on the way out,”Thank you for letting us stay, I know we don’t look too respectable right now, but we’ve had a hard couple of weeks.”

She shook her head and patted Rick’s shoulder, “I can tell you all are good men. And, hell, this is Laramie, we get half dead customers at least once a week.”

Rick couldn’t help but laugh and she joined in before shooing him off.

Walker was waiting at the front of the hotel, too well trained to wonder off. His head was low though, so Rick knew he was tired. He took his horse around the back of the hotel to their stable so he could unsaddle and brush the big roan. 

He didn’t see any feed, but there was a bit of hay in the corner that he could give him at least. A barrel of water stood next to the back of the hotel so Rick was able to get some water.

Walker ate a few bites of the hay and took a long drink of water before letting his head fall down to sleep. Rick ran a hand over his horse’s flank, thinking about how he’d ended up here, before leaving for the night. 

Daryl was asleep when Rick got back to the room and he desperately wanted to join in, but he still had most of the trail on his clothes and he felt gritty.  Denise must have come back because the water in the pitcher was full again and the bloody rag was gone, replaced with two fresh clean ones. Rick stripped and washed himself the best he could with just the what was in the pitcher. Maybe tomorrow they could find a bathhouse and get really clean.

Rick climbed into bed next to Daryl and, secure in the knowledge that everything was right in the world, fell fast asleep.

***

Rick woke to the sound of knocking. Again. But this time it really was the door to their room and not the headboard in the next room.

Tara’s voice drifted through the door, “Umm, I know you had a rough night, but I’m going to have to charge you for another night if you all don’t check out soon.” 

Rick got up and padded to the door, opening it a crack and peeking through, “Yeah, go ahead and charge us for another night. I think we got some shut-eye to catch up on.”

His use of the chamber pot woke Daryl from his sleep and Rick tried to hide his embarrassment as he hurried up. It wasn’t like they hadn’t seen each other piss before while they were on the trail, but it was a bit more intimate in their current setting. 

“Stop looking at me,” he chided.

“I have not seen you in many days, Rick. I cannot help but to look.”

“I’m taking a piss!”

“You should hurry, I need to take a piss, too.” 

Rick couldn’t help but laugh, luckily he was done. He walked over to the window to look out on the day so that he could give Daryl some privacy. The street below was dusty and filled with men and women of all walks of life. Preacher to prostitute walked side by side. 

Daryl quickly finished and came up and wrapped his arms around Rick. 

Leaning back into the embrace Rick said, “I think we can go down to the bathhouse and have a good long soak before we head out for the homestead.”

“How far to the homestead?” Daryl asked.

“A couple of weeks from here. Don’t wanna push it. Want to give Walker a little time to recover, too.”

“I would like to meet your family,” Daryl said as he nuzzled Rick’s neck.

Rick pulled away, “None of that until you feel better. Don’t want to have to worry about you hurting yourself more.”

Daryl sighed, “Rick, I….”

“...am fine, I know. But I still don’t want to do anything until you feel better. ‘Sides, your face is pretty rough looking and I’d just be worried you’d bust open or something on me.”

Daryl laughed one of his few deep laughs and shook his head, “That is fine, Rick. But I have not touched you for a very long time and I dreamed about it the whole time that you were gone.”

Rick would have jumped Daryl right then, busted up body be damned, but he knew the next time they messed around he was going to be the ‘taker’ and Daryl was going to be the ‘giver’ and he wasn’t sure he was ready to do that in a hotel with two women knocking on the door all hours of the day and night.

“Well, let’s get cleaned up and rested up and then we can talk about it on the way home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yay! Everything worked out! But why are there still 4 more chapters to go??? Hmmmm


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now the two lovebirds have some time alone. What _will_ they do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to my dear friend KatyTheInspiredWorkaholic.

It was another two days before they could get out of Laramie. And despite what Rick had told Daryl, they spent half of those days in bed, exploring each other’s bodies. They didn’t go as far as they had the night before they got to the prison, but Rick was an active participant now. Touching Daryl and making him moan became a new game to Rick. And Daryl was allowed to explore more on Rick, licking a little lower, a finger or two going where it hadn’t before. 

Walker also needed more than just a day to recover. Rick hadn’t noticed how much weight his horse had lost on his mad dash across the territory. He felt pretty guilty about that , and bought the best feed he could for his horse to try and get him back to his normal weight. 

Of course there was  also the afternoon they’d spent at the bath house. Rick had had to convince Daryl that it was ok to sit in the wooden tub and just relax  _ “A clean creek is better” _ . The pretty girls that worked there tried to lure them to other activities, but of course it was just a wasted effort, the two only had eyes for each other. 

They didn’t explore Laramie much, mostly because Daryl wasn’t up to it, but also because Rick wasn’t sure if the warden would be looking for them. He didn’t really have a reason, but the man seemed off his rocker to Rick, so he wouldn’t put anything past him.

Denise came to see them as they were packing up to leave, “I brought you some stuff for him, Daryl, um  \-  Short Arrow. For his cuts and stuff.”

Rick looked at Daryl’s face, it was still bruised and slightly puffy, but no telltale redness of infection. “I think he’ll be good in a week or so.”

She smiled shyly and a blush crept up her cheeks, “Well they have this new stuff, it’s supposed to help with keeping out infection. The oil workers used to use it, I think. Anyway, you just put a little on the cut and it keeps it clean.” Her blush grew even darker, “And, uh, it’s supposed to be a good lubricant too.”

Daryl narrowed his eyes and took the little tin from her hand. She had to show him how to open it and then he took a small amount on his fingers and rubbed them together before taking a delicate sniff.

“Is there more?” He asked.

Denise giggled and nodded her head, “And they sell it at the general store. I think Tobin, the shopkeeper, said you can get it just about anywhere now.”

Daryl smiled and turned to Rick, “This is a very good gift.”

Rick wasn’t sure what was so special about a little tin of goo, but if Daryl liked it, it must be good.

Tara had another gift for them when they checked out, “I don’t think you charged us enough,“ Rick said as he looked at the the handwritten receipt.

“Well, you guys are just too cute and I couldn’t charge you seeing as you weren’t any trouble.”

Rick shook his head and put his money on the desk, “We can’t accept this, let me pay you the full price.”

“No! Please, I’ll charge the next asshole that comes in here twice as much, I do it all the time. Really it’s ok.” Tara said as she pushed the money back towards Rick.

He put his hand on the pile to push it back when Daryl put his hand on Rick’s, “Do not shame her by refusing her gift.”

Rick looked between Daryl and Tara and knew he was outnumbered. “All right. But next time I come through here, I expect to pay full price.”

Tara smiled brightly, “Just be an ass and it won’t be a problem!”

Laughing, Rick shook his head and waved goodbye on his way out, Daryl following close behind. It was nice to make friends when you didn’t expect to. Looking back to see that Tara had ducked out of sight and that the lobby was empty, Rick grabbed Daryl’s hand and pulled him in for a quick kiss, suddenly very happy to have met this particular friend.

***

Even though Rick knew he should be hurrying home he just couldn’t make himself push the horses or Daryl. They took a wide berth around Cheyenne, Rick didn’t want to share Daryl with anyone just yet. They’d be home soon enough and he was sure that Carl would find the man endlessly fascinating.

They were a week into the trek home and just settling into the tent for the night, which meant crawling in naked and starting their nightly ritual of exploring each other’s bodies. Rick had found that Daryl really reacted to being kissed on the neck and loved to have Rick nibble there as they mutually masturbated. 

But Rick wanted more this night. All the days of being with Daryl, hearing his quiet stories of growing up with the Cheyenne and how he was happy with Rick made him want to show Daryl that he was loved.

“I want, I want to try that thing you did...before. Where you give and I...take.” Rick whispered.

“You are certain? You did not seem to want to try.” Daryl whispered back.

“I am. I want to show you how much you mean to me. And besides, it looked like it felt good.”

Daryl let out a long slow breath, “Are you clean?”

Rick ducked his head in mild embarrassment, “Yeah, I uh, cleaned up earlier while you were taking care of the horses.”

Daryl nodded and ran a hand down Rick’s back until he touched the tight little hole at the end. Rick gasped. Daryl had explored there before and it always surprised Rick with how it felt, strange but good. And the good outweighed the strange more and more each time.

“Where did my bag go? I need something from it.” Daryl asked as he looked around the cramped tent.

“Here,” Rick said as he fished it from the far corner. 

Daryl rooted around until he came up with the small tin that Denise had given them.

“What’s that for? Is one of your cuts bothering you?” Rick asked. Daryl’s face was almost healed up, so he couldn’t understand why Daryl would need it.

But Daryl just chuckled and said, “No. It has another use.” His eyes grew dark as he motioned to Rick, “Roll over on your back.”

With a  kaleidoscope  of butterflies in his stomach, Rick laid down as instructed, letting his legs fall open. They’d done this part before, Rick on his back with Daryl’s mouth on him and a finger inside, but this felt different. Bigger, more important.

Daryl rubbed a hand down Rick’s leg and to his stomach, “Calm yourself Rick, I will not hurt you. But it will if you are worried.” 

Rick took a deep breath and nodded. He could do this.

The tin was opened and Daryl took a small amount on his fingers before setting it aside, close but not in the way, and then positioned himself so that he could take Rick’s half hard cock in his mouth and swirl his finger lower.

Unable to contain himself, Rick moaned as Daryl took him all in. Daryl had always driven Rick crazy when his mouth was there, but Daryl had learned what turned Rick on and what made him whimper and beg, so every time was better than the last. 

The finger working its way into his ass wasn’t new either, it was a part of this particular sex act now, but the slickness was different. Better than spit, which was what Daryl had been using. 

Rick put his hand on the back of Daryl’s head to encourage him along. Daryl never wavered, moving his mouth all along Rick’s length, alternating sucking and licking. Rick almost didn’t notice the second finger slide in , as that was when Daryl had gone all the way down and hollowed out his cheeks as he swallowed. 

“Jesus, wait Daryl.” 

Daryl started to move but Rick held his head so he’d stay, “Just give me a second. That was...more than I expected.”

Rick didn’t want things to get awkward, so he lifted his hips slightly to let Daryl know he could continue. Daryl understood and went back to slowly working his fingers in and out.

It didn’t hurt so much as it felt, not wrong, but odd. Daryl kept up the movement of his fingers, but had slowed down with his mouth, so that Rick noticed them more. They slid out for a moment, making Rick worry, but they were back shortly with more of the stuff from the tin. The shape of the fingers changed, no longer straight, but curved and spread a bit, and they moved around as though Daryl were trying to map the inside of Rick.

But then Daryl nudged  _ something _ deep inside of Rick that seemed to be connected to his cock causing it and Rick to jump.

“What the fuck was that?” He asked when Daryl paused, his breath short from the electric feeling.

Daryl pulled off Rick’s cock and said, “I do not know, but it feels good. And it will feel better when I am in you. Are you ready?”

Not really sure if he was actually ready or not, Rick nodded his head. Best to get it over with.

“I think you should roll over and get on your knees. It is easier the first time that way.” Daryl told him as he sat back on his heels to let Rick move.

Rick was expecting Daryl to plunge right in after he rolled over, but instead he felt fingers again. 

“You will get tight again with worry, just be calm and enjoy this.” Daryl explained.

Rick nodded and  slowly  let  out  the breath he’d been holding. Daryl had done this, surely he could too.

Relentless fingers soon found that spot again and experimented with how to manipulate it. Circles, taps, rubs, all were done, Daryl listening to Rick’s reaction to see what made the man below him cry out the loudest.

The tightness in his cock was getting to be too much, so Rick put a hand to himself to try and relieve it.  

Daryl chucked behind him, “I think you are ready.”

Rick could hear the rustle behind him as Daryl messed with the tin again and felt more of the stuff pushed into his backside. It made him wonder what Daryl had done to prepare when they’d done this the first time, maybe it had been the bear grease and sweet grass. 

He felt it then, the nudge of Daryl’s cock. 

“Breath out and push.” Daryl told him as a hand rubbed along his lower back.

Rick did and felt a stretch and burn as Daryl pushed in slowly. He expected Daryl to go all the way, but instead he stopped with just his head inside of Rick.

“You are ok?” He asked and Rick could hear the strain in his voice from holding back.

Rick nodded his head in a quick nod, “Yeah, yeah...I’m good.”

Daryl then pushed in more, just a bit, before pulling back out until just the head again. He kept this up, working more of his dick in with each pass, Rick occasionally twitching below him at the intrusion. There was a burn, a fullness, maybe even a feeling of uncomfortableness, but not real pain. Not enough to ask Daryl to stop anyhow.

Once he’d finally gotten all of himself in Rick, Daryl paused and reached for Rick’s cock. It was still mostly hard and Daryl gave several easy tugs that made Rick whimper. 

Rick was to the point where he could only make noises, the art of speech had left him not long after Daryl had asked if he was ok. Daryl kept an easy rhythm that allowed for Rick to adjust his body if he need ed to, Daryl’s hands on his cock and rubbing along his ass guiding his movements. 

Something changed after a few minutes, the sensations were no longer odd or uncomfortable, now little spikes of pleasure radiated out from all the places Daryl was touching him. He could feel his cock drip with pre-ejaculation as the pleasure took over his body. 

He outright yelped when Daryl found that spot again, just managing to tell Daryl not to stop when the man faltered. It wasn’t long after that, the explosive bliss radiating from that spot making Rick’s mind go blank. He didn’t even have time to warn Daryl that he was close before he was letting go into Daryl’s tight fist. 

Daryl pumped Rick’s cock until it was almost too much before letting go and focusing on achieving his own orgasm, pushing into Rick faster and harder than he had been until he lost his timing and shuddered and collapsed on Rick’s back.

They feel in a heap, Rick laughing at the absurdity of it, Daryl chiming in once he caught his breath. 

“That was amazing,” Rick said, his voice muffled by being face down in the tent.

Daryl rolled off Rick, his cock sliding free and causing Rick to wince. “Yes. It was very nice.”

Rick rolled onto his side and reached for Daryl, pulling him close so that they could share a slow tender kiss. No words were exchanged as they wrapped themselves together, showing with deeds rather than words how they felt about each other.

Daryl had said the words before, and Rick knew that he felt the same way, but he just couldn’t get the words out. He wasn’t even sure he needed to, Daryl had never asked. 

Finally they parted enough that Rick could look into Daryl’s eyes, “I can’t wait for you to meet my kids. Carl’s gonna just think you’re the bee’s knees.”

“Bee’s knees?” Daryl asked.

“Ah, yeah. He’ll think you’re great.” Rick said as he ran a finger along Daryl’s jaw.

Daryl turned and kissed the inside of Rick’s palm before saying, “If he is anything like his father, I will love him like the stream loves the rain.”

Rick wasn’t sure how he would explain the relationship that he and Daryl had to the people back home. Would Carl still admire him after he found out he’d taken the place of Lori in Rick’s heart? Would Hershel and his daughter reject them and cause problems? Hershel had seemed ok with the notion when they’d talked about Rick going on the route. Now that Rick thought about it, Hershel had hinted he  had known exactly why Daryl would not want to come back to the white world. 

That made Rick think about what little profit he’d made on this trip. He was sure Hershel would have done better and taken less time, but they’d known he wasn’t going to do as well as the experienced trader. And Rick had had to add a whole two weeks on account of getting Daryl out of the prison. 

Little Beth probably still held out hope that Rick was going to come back and marry her. She certainly deserved praise for coming in and helping out with Carl and Judith when Rick had been too distraught after Lori’s death. But there was no way now, or ever, that he would marry her.

His mind wandered to thoughts of his dead wife. It’d been less than a year since she’d gone and here someone had already taken a place in his heart. Rick still felt a pang when he thought of her, so maybe he still loved her. He knew he missed her. Probably always would. They’d been together for half their life. But he would expect her to move on if he’d have died. 

Daryl’s eyes had fluttered shut while Rick was thinking of home. He didn’t want to give this man up , and hoped that Daryl would understand that they would have to be more prudent with their feelings around other people. So far they had been lucky that only people like themselves had noticed. But all it would take would be one wrong touch or look and someone would make trouble.

Rick vowed to himself that he wouldn’t give Daryl up. He wasn’t sure how his kids would figure into that, because he couldn’t let them go either. He’d just work something out. 

Come hell or high water, Rick would be with Daryl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OHHHH! Rick did it! He did it!! Also, bragging rights to the first person to guess what's in the tin.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home at last! Everything is gonna be great now....right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KatyTheInspiredWorkaholic is like mint julep on Derby Day. Perfect and necessary.

The rest of the trip home was nearly uneventful. They avoided the towns as much as possible and slept under the stars at night. The trip wasn’t boring though. Each night was spent wrapped in each other’s arms. Telling stories of their lives and making love.

Rick was stunned by how much he enjoyed the ‘taking’ part. Actually even preferred it. He could do without the soreness the next day though, which made him have to walk instead of riding in the saddle. Walker giving him the stink eye didn’t help.

They were a few hours from home when Walker and Nick realized where they were, and their pace picked up so much even Roamer had a bit of trouble keeping up. Rick couldn’t blame them, he sure wanted to see his boy and baby girl. And he wanted them to meet Daryl.

It was Carl who saw them first, out near the trail leading to the house cutting the long grass with a scythe. Rick’s heart swelled with pride to see his boy out working the land like a full grown man. Lori would have been just as proud, although she’d a had a conniption to see her son wielding a knife longer than his arm. 

“Dad!”

Rick jumped off Walker just in time to catch Carl in his arms as he ran full tilt at his father. 

“You musta grown a foot since I saw ya last!” Rick said as he let go and pushed Carl out to an arm’s length and examined him. 

Carl’s bright smile lit up his face, “Aw,  D ad. Ain’t been that long. Oh! You need to come see Judith! She’s tryin’ ta walk. She don’t even cry when she falls, just gets right back up and...” 

Here Carl stopped as he finally caught sight of the man on the palomino horse waiting patiently next to Walker.

“Carl, want you to meet my friend, Daryl,” Rick said.

Daryl gave Rick an exasperated look and dismounted his horse to walk to where Carl was standing with his mouth open. “My name is Short Arrow.”

Carl didn’t answer, his eyes big in his head and a look of shock written across his face.

“Son, don’t be rude. Shake the man’s hand.” Rick instructed.

His father’s firm voice broke through and he turned to look at Rick, “But I thought Daryl was a baby?”

Rick laughed, “Yeah, I did, too. But he’s not. Just been a long time since Merle Dixon had seen his brother. Now show some manners and shake his hand.”

Carl stood up straight and turned to Daryl with his hand stuck out, “Nice to meet you, sir.”

Daryl very solemnly took Carl’s hand and shook it the required three times, “Nice to meet you, Carl.”

Rick clapped Daryl on his back, “Come on, I want you to meet Judith and the Greenes.”

Judith was right where Rick had left her, on a blanket in front of the house. She looked the same, but different. A little bigger, a little stronger, less wobbly, but still with a shock of red hair and bright inquisitive eyes. Rick had to stop and wipe the moisture from his cheeks before he gently lowered himself down and took her in his arms.

“I’m surprised she’s not frettin’. She don’t usually like anyone but the three of us to hold her.” Beth’s sweet voice said behind him.

“Her daddy ain’t no stranger to her, Bethie.”

Rick stood and put out his hand, “Hershel.”

“Nice to see you back in one piece, Rick. I see you brought Short Arrow with you.”

Daryl stepped forward then and grabbed Hershel’s hand in a traditional hand clasp, hand near elbow. “It is nice to see you again, my friend.”

Hershel smiled, “Nice to see you, too.”

“Ya’ll gonna introduce me?” Beth asked with mock severity. 

“Sorry Bethie. Short Arrow, this here is my baby daughter, Beth.” Hershel said as he motioned to his daughter.

“It’s nice to meet you, Short Arrow.” Beth said, a beaming smile on her face.

“It is nice to meet you as well, Beth.” Daryl replied.

Beth turned to Rick, “Did you find the baby? Daryl?” She screwed up her face in consternation when the three men and the boy surrounding her burst into laughter.

Rick was the first to recover thanks to Beth’s angry stare, “This is Daryl. Short Arrow is his Cheyenne name.”

“Oh! I thought he was a baby!” 

“Well, it seems your dad was the only one that knew he wasn’t. But I found him and he’s gonna stay here with us for a while.” Rick told her.

Beth clapped her hands together, “That’s wonderful. I guess I ought to be making some more dinner. Got two grown men fresh from the trail. I’ll cook up a chicken and corn on the cob for ya’ll. Daddy, you and Rick figure out where Daryl’s gonna bunk, we’ve got a full house tonight!”

“He can bunk with me if he wants,” Carl offered.

“Don’t know if that’d be proper, a grown man bunking with a boy that ain’t kin, Carl. He can bunk with me.” Hershel said.

“I will sleep with Rick.” Daryl said matter of factly. “I will take the horses to the barn while you see your children.”

Rick’s mouth fell open as Daryl walked away. He shut it quickly as Carl piped up, “You’d think he’d be tired of sleeping with you by now dad.”

Closing his eyes and pinching his nose, Rick sent up a little prayer that Hershel didn’t put two and two together. He wasn’t ready for that conversation just yet.

“I’ll go see if Beth needs any help in the kitchen. She get’s a little squeamish when she has to get the innards out of the bird.” Hershel said, “Glad you’re home Rick. Place ain’t the same without ya.”

Rick nodded and sank down on the blanket, Judith still snuggled in his arms. He let Carl’s chatter catch Rick up on what he’d missed (not much, just one of the cows getting lost and the three of them looking for it all night) wash over him as his eyes drifted shut.

It was the words ‘wedding’ and ‘Beth’ strung together that pulled Rick from his snooze. 

“What?”

“I said, Beth’s been talking about having the wedding in the fall. After the harvest.” Carl said.

Rick moved a now sleeping Judith off his chest and sat up, “Who’s she marrying?”

Carl looked at him in confusion, “You  D ad.”

***

Dinner wasn’t as awkward as Rick feared. Judith was the life of the party and kept a smile on everyone’s face, her giggles and smiles infectious.

Carl peppered Daryl with questions so much that Rick threatened to send him to his room. Daryl took it all in good grace, hushing Rick, even promising to try and help Carl with learning to shoot his bow.

“Where did you get the bear claws?” Was the last straw for Rick. Granted, Daryl had been brave, but Rick comes off sounding like a greenhorn in the story and he doesn’t want his son to think he can’t take care of himself.

“All right son, enough questions. I mean it.”

Daryl smirked, but answered Carl anyway, “These are from a ferocious bear that terrorized the Cheyenne. He was as tall as a tipi and almost as big around. They say he was older and meaner than any other bear. He would stalk the people and eat horses. No one was safe when this wise old bear was around. But he made a terrible mistake, he attacked your father!”

Gasps rang around the dinner table.

“No!” Beth said, her eyes as big as saucers as she looked at Rick.

“But that bear did not know your father. He did not know what a wise and brave man he is. The bear did not know that your dad would fight him with his bare hands!”

Rick put his head down on his crossed arms, of course Daryl would make it out like Rick was the hero. 

“It was a big fight, Rick shot the awful beast twice, and still it charged, but the bear couldn’t beat your father. He had the terrible thing down on the ground, both hands around his neck when he asked me to shoot the bear with my arrow.”

Carl and Beth had Daryl’s full attention, not blinking or moving, their mouths open in amazement. Hershel looked thoughtful, but showed no skepticism.

“I had to aim true, the bear would not go down without a fight, he bucked and kicked like a wild horse while they fought. Then Rick moved his head just enough and I shot the bear in the eye.”  

“Wow!” Carl whispered. 

“Ok, I think it’s time to get cleaned up and get ready for bed.” Rick said sternly.

“Aww, dad. It’s not that late and I want to hear how Daryl got his feather.” Carl whined.

“You’re right, it’s not that late, but I got stuff that still needs unpacked and I got some things to do. And I’m sure Beth could use some help cleaning up.”

Beth blushed as Rick looked over at her. The chicken that had been so tasty a few minutes ago suddenly turned into a lump of lead in his stomach, he was going to have to tell her that there was no way he could marry her. Besides the fact she still looked like a little girl to him, he couldn’t do that to Daryl. He’d have to talk to Hershel tomorrow.

***

Rick and Daryl went to the barn to finish getting the horses settled for the night. Daryl had unsaddled them and given them some feed, but Rick wanted to brush them good and check their hooves. And there was still the last remnants of the trade goods that need to be put up for them to use on the farm. There was always a use for fur, fabric, and metal. 

With a quick look out the door to make sure no one was coming, Rick pulled Daryl into his arms and gave him a slow, easy kiss.

“I knew they would love you.”

“They are very nice. Carl will be a strong and brave man like his father.” Daryl said.

“I hope so.” Rick sighed. “Listen, I don’t want to sound like an ass, but…”

Daryl put a finger on Rick’s jaw, “I understand Rick. Carl does not need to know about us yet. We can be as friends.”

Rick nodded, “Carl or anyone for now. Beth’s got it in her head I’m going to marry her.”

Daryl cocked his head to the side, “Did you make her think you would?”

“No! I never did. I swear. I don’t know where she got that notion. But, I’ll tell her tomorrow.” He motioned his head to the house, “Come on, let’s go get some shut eye. It’s been a long day.”

“It has been a long day.” Daryl agreed with a sigh.

“You go on, I’m gonna go tuck Carl in.” Rick said when they got in the house.

Daryl nodded and went on to Rick’s room to get settled. Rick looked at the ladder that led up to Carl’s bedroom and sighed, he wasn’t as young as he used to be.

Carl was reading a dime novel by the light of a candle, a indiscriminate native and a trapper running on the cover. “Hey, Dad.”

“Hey, son. You know, those stories aren’t real, they’re made up.” Rick said as he motioned to the paperback.

“Yeah, I know. They got how to kill a bear all wrong.”

Rick smiled, “You know, Daryl was just tryin’ to make me look good. I was flat on my back and was about to get a face full of the bear claw when Daryl shot him.”

“Yeah, I didn’t figure you could wrestle a bear. Knew it was Daryl savin’ ya the whole time.” Carl smile back.

Rick smiled and ruffled Carl’s hair, “Ok son. You go on and get some shut eye. We gotta see about starting to get the wheat in tomorrow.”

“Yeah, ok Dad. And Dad?”

Rick quirked an eyebrow in question.

Carl drew a deep breath, “I’m glad you’re home. It was lonely without you. Or  M om.” 

Pulling him close, Rick held his son tight, “I miss her, too. Everyday. I can’t promise I won’t leave you again, but I will always do my best to get back as soon as possible.” Rick pulled back and looked Carl in the eye, “There’s nothing more important to me than you and Judith. Nothing.”

Carl nodded his head and then settled back under his covers, “I’m glad you found Short Arrow.”

“Me too, son. Now go on and get to sleep, we’ve got a lot of work to do tomorrow.” Rick said with a smile.

“Night, Dad.”

“Night, son.” Rick said as he made his way down the ladder.

The delicate hand on his shoulder startled him, turning around he found Beth standing so very close that he had to back up a step. She had her hair down in long golden ribbons and was wearing a light cotton nightdress. Rick could just see the dusky color of her breasts through the thin material. 

“I’m so very glad you’re home, Rick,” she said as she stepped closer.

He took a quick breath, not expecting this, “Beth, I uh, need to get on to bed now.”

She smiled and tilted her head, “I was hoping we could talk. The house is quiet this time of night.”

Rick shook his head, “Ain’t proper. And it’s been a long day and I have a list of chores a mile long for tomorrow.”

Licking her lips she put her hands on Rick’s chest and let them slide up, “I could...help you sleep. Nobody’d care if we were getting married anyway.”

He grabbed her hands and pulled them from his body, “I ain’t getting married anytime soon. If ever. And I’m not looking for someone to replace Lori.”

Beth looked at him, shocked. “But, I’ve been mother to your children while you were gone. I can do it. I can be a good wife for you.”

“Wouldn’t sit right with me, Beth. You being only a few years older than Carl. You’re not much more’na kid.” Rick explained.

Her face twisted up in anger, “I am not a child! I am a grown woman. And I can show you.” Her hands went to her gown and started pulling up.

Rick could barely register his shock when there was a sharp, “Beth!” from the other side of the kitchen.

Hershel walked out of the shadows, strained anger on his face.

Beth turned red and fled back to her room.

Rick wasn’t sure what all Hershel had seen, but he didn’t want to stick around and get lectured by the older man. “Goodnight, Hershel,” he said as he darted around the table to his own room and Daryl. Hershel let him go without a word. 

Daryl was already asleep, so Rick quietly undressed and climbed into bed. He took a deep breath and submerged himself in Daryl’s familiarity. This was what he wanted, his children healthy and happy and this man by his side.

***

Hershel cornered him in the barn the next morning. Breakfast had been tense. Beth had been angry and maybe embarrassed. Carl and Daryl looked confused, but had enough sense to keep their head down as she stormed around the kitchen. Hershel caught her eye at one point and that was enough of a reprimand that she skittered off to her room again, this time with tears in her eyes.

“What exactly are your intentions toward my daughter?” Hershel asked in a firm voice.

Rick stood up straighter, “I don’t have any.”

“I don’t understand, Rick.”

Sighing, Rick put down the bucket of feed he’d gotten for the chickens, “I never had any intentions of making her my wife. She’s too young for me. Not saying she won’t make some other man a fine wife, but I don’t intend to replace Lori.”

Hershel adjusted himself on his new leg, “You mean to tell me you’re gonna remain a bachelor for the rest of your life?”

Rick shook his head, “I don’t know. Haven’t thought about it too much.”

“It’s Daryl, isn’t it?” Hershel asked in a calm voice.

“Daryl?” Rick licked his lips in nervousness.

“I saw the way he looks at you. And the way you look at him. I know you all were out on the trail alone for a time. And I knew that you’d have trouble convincing him to come back because the Cheyenne would accept him the way that he is.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the way that he is!” Rick protested.

Hershel paused before saying, “You have feelings for him.”

Roamer nickered loudly before Rick could answer.

“Tell me, Rick, what’s going on between the two of you?”

Rick turned and looked out the door of the barn, “I had to do something to get him back. He wouldn’t come back for Merle. That snake had run off and left him alone with his crazy ass parents.”

“So you pretended to….”

“Yeah,” Rick said. 

Roamer whinnied loudly in the stall at the far end of the barn before Rick could go on. “But, it ain’t like that anymore. I can’t see letting him go back. Or...leaving.” Rick turned and paced in front of Hershel, “I know you’ll condemn us. Maybe try and convince me I’m wrong. But I just can’t see me going on now without him.”

Hershel gave him a long hard look before saying, “Rick, I’ve known Daryl a lot longer than you. And he is a kind, brave man. And I am pleased as punch to call him my friend.I can’t say as I agree with it. You’re a god fearin’ man and ought to know better, but I guess Beth will just have to set her cap for some other fella.”

Rick wanted to protest that he wasn’t a god fearing man and he wasn’t sure what it had to do with Daryl and Rick being in love, but Hershel was already gone. Hobbling on the peg leg and a crutch across the yard toward the house. Hopefully to let Beth know in no uncertain terms that she needed to find another man to marry her.

He had a silly grin on his face the rest of the day as he worked alongside Carl. He looked for Daryl at lunch, but didn’t see him. Beth and Hershel said they hadn’t seen him since breakfast. He’d probably gone off to hunt for dinner or to find a clear running stream to take a bath. Rick still hadn’t convinced him that soap and water from a pitcher were just as good as a cold stream.

He tried to not let it bother him, Daryl was a grown man and could do what he wanted. So Rick went back to his chores. It wasn’t until almost suppertime that Rick needed to go back to the barn. Maybe Daryl had been here tending to his horse. But Roamer was gone and so was Biter. 

A trickle of fear ran down Rick’s back. He ran back to the house and went straight to his room, the room he’d planned on sharing with Daryl. But it was empty, Daryl’s bags all gone. 

And then Rick remembered Roamer and how noisy the usually quiet horse had been that morning. He only made that much noise when he knew Daryl was near. 

Rick fell on the bed, head in his hands. It was all he could do to keep from sobbing.

It was Hershel that came looking for Rick, coming to tell him it was time to eat. But he took one look and saw that Rick wasn’t in any shape for supper.

“What happened, son?” He asked.

“He’s gone. He left. I...I think he heard us. Not all of it, not enough. And he’s gone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, you didn't think Rick would get away with it did you?


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick has some things to fix.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KatyTheInspiredWorkaholic is smart and talented and kind and she lets me call her friend and she beta's this for me. 
> 
> And based on the comments from last chapter, you all feel like Rick deserved what happened, but you were sad for Daryl. I agree.

The wheat had to be harvested. Not only would it be part of their food stores for the winter, but Rick needed to sell it so he could have money over the winter months. It was already mid-July and it couldn’t wait another week, let alone the month or so it would take Rick to track down Daryl.

Hershel had had to keep Rick from going that night, “You got no chance of catching him in the dark,” he’d said. “Headed home to his village is my bet."

It was two weeks before Rick could leave. Two weeks of worry and self doubt, of getting up with the sun and going to bed with the stars shining down from the sky. Two weeks wondering what Rick could do to win back Daryl. Rick hired in extra hands to help with the harvest like he did every year, but this year he’d pushed them as hard as he thought he could get away with during those two weeks. He was packed and ready to go as soon as the last bushel had been put up. 

Hershel, it turned out, had the answers. “Go straight to the chief’s tipi and get sanctuary. If you get on his good side, he might help you.”

It was a long shot, Daryl wasn’t the type to forgive easily. Merle was evidence of that. But he had to try or it would break Rick. After losing Lori, he couldn’t lose Daryl, too. 

“And, Rick? A lot of folks won’t think it’s proper what the two of you get up to, but if you’re careful, don’t nobody need to know. You’ve done your part. Married and had some kids. Now you need to raise ‘em up. And you can do that just as easy with Daryl as with Bethie. He’s someone I’d be happy to ride the river with.”

Rick ducked his head and collected himself before looking up at his friend, “Means a lot to me, Hershel. Don’t know what I’d a done if it weren’t for you.”

“Son, your family means the world to me, and Daryl is a part of that family now. You’ve got about a month before the corn needs harvesting, so you need to be back by then. Now go on before Bethie tries to set her cap for you again.” Hershel said as he put a hand on Rick’s shoulder.

Rick only took Walker and as little gear as he thought he could get away with. The tent stayed home, there shouldn’t be much rain this late in the summer. Certainly not the downpours from earlier in the season. He brought a little extra grain for Walker too, didn’t want his horse to get skinny again on another trek across the plains to the foot of the mountains.

So he found himself rushing across the wide open country to get to Daryl. The trip that had taken him two weeks before would now take a week. Rushing Walker again so soon after their last cross country race probably wasn’t the best for the horse, but Rick promised him a long quiet winter in the barn.

The nights were cold and lonely out on the trail without Daryl beside him. He’d always been fine before when he was on the trail of a criminal, but now he was spoiled for the warmth and the companionship that Daryl had brought. He spent most nights remembering the sound of Daryl’s voice and rare laughter. 

Daryl’s home village wasn’t where they’d left it. There were indications that it had been a while since they’d picked up stakes and moved on. They could be anywhere and Rick now only had two weeks to find them and convince Daryl to come back with him. 

Kicking the dirt in frustration, Rick scoured the ground looking for clues for which way the camp had moved. They would most likely stay close to the water, so Rick walked a fair bit up both sides of the stream to see if he could find the trail.

Another two days of searching brought him to a village along the creek. But before he could sigh in relief, he realized this was not Daryl’s home village. It was the village with the young  C hief that had driven such a hard bargain when Rick was trading.

Rick walked through the village unmolested, Walker on a lead trailing behind. He found Chief Little Fox sitting outside his tent, a wife nearby tending to the fire. The man offered Rick to sit and then said some words to his wife who hurried off.

“You did not come to trade,” the  C hief said in much better English than the first time Rick had met him.

“No. I’m looking for Dar...Short Arrow.” Rick replied to the unasked question.

Chief Little Fox nodded his head. His wife came back then with a small cup of water that she gave to Rick.

Nodding his thanks, Rick turned back to the  C hief, “I expect he’d be with his home village, but they moved from where they were last. I don’t know where to look for them.”

The Chief nodded again and looked off into the distance. “His village does not wish to make war upon the Crow.”

Rick wasn’t sure what to make of that. He knew the Cheyenne and the Crow were enemies, and that the Crow tended to be friendlier to whites, but he didn’t know what that meant for Daryl.

The chief went on, “This village will make war on the Crow. There are many horses to be won from battle.”

Daryl’s home village had had a lot of horses, maybe they didn’t want to risk losing them in battle or they thought they had enough. But it was clear that this young  C hief wanted to raid the Crow and steal horses.

The Crow were West of the Cheyenne nation, so did that mean that Daryl’s village had gone East? There was another creek a few miles in that direction that ran almost parallel to this one.

“Would they find another creek to camp by that wasn’t as close to the Crow?” Rick asked. 

The  C hief looked at Rick with a smile, but didn’t answer. Instead saying, “We will eat soon. You will sit next to me and tell me stories.”

“I really ought to get going, I have…”

“In the morning my brother will be back from visiting the girl he wishes to marry. She lives in Short Arrow’s village.”

Rick held back a sigh and nodded his head. Another delay. Another day between him and Daryl. Another day taken from his time to convince Daryl to come home with him. 

***

The next morning Rick was up with the sun. He wanted to watch for the  C hief’s brother so he could question him on the whereabouts of the village. He just hoped the man would be more willing to talk than the Chief Little Fox had been, or at least point Rick in the right direction. He was all balled up at what to do if he couldn’t work this out.

It was nearly mid morning before a young man rode up on a sturdy chestnut with white markings, clearly not happy. He jumped off his horse and stalked to where the  C hief was talking to another young man of the village. Rick’s Cheyenne wasn’t great, but he could understand the words ‘horse’ and ‘more’. He guessed the young man didn’t have enough horses to woo the girl he was after. Now Rick knew why this village needed to raid for horses and Daryl’s did not.

He waited as long as he could bear before cautiously approaching the two, desperate to get going. The  C hief caught his eye and motioned for Rick to come closer. He spoke a few words to his brother who turned to Rick with anger still in his eyes.

There was no way Rick could understand with how quickly he spoke, but the  C hief stepped in and translated for him.

“My brother, Lightning on the Mountain, asks if you would speak to the he'émáné'e of their village for him if he tells you where they are,” Chief Little Fox said.

“Of course,” Rick said. Hell, he would promise the man the moon if it would help him find Daryl.

“You will tell her that my brother has many fine horses and that we will war with the Crow before the next moon and have many more?”

“Yes.” Rick nodded.

“The creek you spoke of, they are there. To the North of here, you will be there before time to eat.”

Rick quickly thanked the man and gathered up Walker and his things. He’d already saddled his horse in hopes of a fast getaway, so it was just a matter of tying his gear on and then he was gone.

***

Rick figured the easiest way to find the village would be to go straight to the creek and follow it north. What he didn’t figure was to see Daryl himself bathing in the creek just outside of the village. 

Daryl didn’t notice him right away, too busy scrubbing his hair in the clear water, but Roamer did. The horse whinnied loudly when he saw them, Walker whinnied back and that’s when Daryl looked around and spotted Rick. 

There was a long pause as they stared at each other, Rick’s heart beating hard enough that it shook his whole body. Before he could even think to get off his horse and approach, Daryl was rushing out of the stream and quickly dressing.

“Daryl!” Rick cried out.

Daryl stopped and looked at Rick, his eyes stormy with anger and hurt, “My name is Short Arrow and I do not wish to trade with you. Go away.”

Rick felt the sting of Daryl’s dismissal deep in his heart. Before he could recover, Daryl was on Roamer and riding off. Rick knew better than to follow, Walker was a fast runner, but he would never catch up with the plains horse that Daryl rode bare back.

Taking a deep breath, Rick headed toward the village, hoping Hershel’s advise would pan out. He had just over a week.

***

Chief Cliff Above the River was not happy to see Rick, but he allowed Rick into his tipi when Rick asked. He wondered what Daryl had told the wizened old man. The  C hief had warned Rick not to hurt Daryl and now here Rick was trying to win back the heart of that man.

“Why do you come here?” The  C hief asked.

“I want to take Daryl home.”

Chief Cliff Above the River shook his head and gestured around himself, “Short Arrow is home.”

“I want him to come home with me, to be with me.” Rick said.

The  C hief made a short, slashing motion with his hand, “Short Arrow does not wish it. He will stay here with his family.” 

“I want him to be part of my family.”

“You only speak of what you want. You do not know what Short Arrow wants,” the  C hief said gruffly. 

Rick’s mouth fell open. He had been so worried about bringing Daryl home, he hadn’t thought that Daryl might not want to be there. 

“You are welcome here now. Do not speak with Short Arrow unless he wishes it. You will not be welcome here if you disturb him,” the  C hief pronounced. 

Rick nodded his head, “May I leave your tipi?”

The  C hief gestured toward the tipi opening and Rick took that as a sign that he was free to go, but Chief Cliff Above the River stopped him, “You will sleep here.”

Rick nodded his understanding and left the tent, not sure where he was going or what he would do, but he had to make an effort.

The villagers eyed him warily as he made his way around. The welcome was gone now that he wasn’t accompanied by Daryl, or maybe Daryl had told them all what Rick had done. He wasn’t about to ask though.

He noticed the women shy away from him, but that was to be expected. The men either ignored him or gave him a flat stare that tore Rick’s stomach up. Daryl had definitely told them what he had overheard over a month ago when Rick was talking to Hershel. Rick wasn’t proud of what he had done, and he wanted to at least tell Daryl he was sorry and beg him to give Rick another chance. 

Rick wandered over to the creek and sat down on the bank to watch the village out of the corner of his eye, hoping to catch sight of Daryl. Everyone seemed to be getting ready for dinner, or whatever they called the evening meal. Rick didn’t have anything to add to the pot, so to speak, so he just stayed where he was.

“Why do you come here?” A voice said behind Rick.

Rick turned quickly and caught sight of a he'émáné'e. It was still disconcerting to Rick’s eye to see a man dressed as a woman, but he was trying very hard for it not to be. He did not want to offend anyone. And part of that was to think of the he'émáné'e as a woman.

“I wanted to talk to Short Arrow.” Rick said.

The he'émáné'e sat next to Rick, “He does not wish to speak with you.”

Rick sighed and nodded his head, “Yeah, I get that. I did a terrible thing. I just want to make it right.”

“I am Flower in the Thorns,” she said.

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Rick Grimes.”

“Short Arrow has spoken to me of you.” Flower in the Thorns said.

Rick nodded his head, “Yeah, I bet he did. But I don’t think he knows how I feel about him.”

“Do you not wish to take Short Arrow back with you to the white man’s world? Make him like you?” 

“I want to take him home, to be with me and my family. I don’t want to change him, I never did.” Rick explained.

“Why do you wish to do this?”

Rick paused and looked over across the stream, thinking of the last few months and the time he had spent with Daryl, “Because I love him.”

“Did you tell the man, Hershel, that you only pretended to love Short Arrow?”

Closing his eyes in anguish, Rick nodded and said, “At first I pretended. Or, I told myself I was pretending. But I was lying to myself. I don’t think I could live without him now.”

The he'émáné'e nodded her head, “You wish to marry him?”

Rick was shocked for the second time in one day, “He’s a man, I can’t marry him!”

“Are you not he'émáné'e? You would do women’s work?”

This was a day for being shocked. Rick remembered helping the women out, but he didn’t realize it would brand him as one, he was just trying to be a gentleman.

“Does that make me he'émáné'e?” Rick asked.

She laughed at him, “No. It is more than doing women’s work. We have many things we do for the Cheyenne. Like find a wife for a man.”

Rick nodded his head, the he'émáné'e wasn’t a medicine man like Rick had thought, but something else. And just as respected. 

She gestured to a girl that was getting water down the creek from them, “This girl, she has a man who wishes to court her. But he cannot get past her sisters and her mother to talk to her.” She pointed a little farther down the creek where a young man was crouched behind a rock, “He will wait here so that she will see him. If she wishes him to continue he may sit outside her tent and wait for her under a blanket.”

Rick wasn’t sure where this story was going, he felt bad for the kid, it was hard to court a girl in the Cheyenne society. 

“He may have his mother come and talk to me, and I may talk to the girl’s mother.” She continued.

And then it fell into place, she was telling Rick what he needed to do to win back Daryl. He turned hopeful eyes on her, “Will you speak to Short Arrow for me?”

Flower In the Thorns cocked her head to the side and asked, “If he will not speak to you, what will you do?”

“I will ask council of you to see what I can do to change his mind.” Rick said.

She nodded her head. “Short Arrow hunts in the morning and bathes when he returns.”

Rick nodded, “Yeah, I saw him today.”

“You could wait for him behind a rock. He may turn his eyes to you.”

“The  C hief said I couldn’t bother him,” Rick said.

She smiled, “The  C hief is angry for Short Arrow. I will talk to him.”

“If Short Arrow looks at me at the creek, then what?”

“Wait for him outside of his tent with a blanket.” She said.

Rick nodded again, he could do that. “Will he talk to me then?”

“If he wishes.”

It was as much as Rick could hope for, all he could do was try. 

Before she could walk away Rick asked her, “The  C hief’s brother in the…”

She stopped Rick with a raised hand, “I know of the man. He is too impatient. He has only courted the girl one summer. He is afraid some other man will win her, but he does not need to fear. She only has eyes for him.” She looked up and motioned for Rick to look toward the village.

Instead of a young girl, he saw Daryl standing in the middle of the village, the people swirling around him, and staring straight at Rick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rick still has to fix this....and there is only one more chapter left.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick lays it all on the line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I can't believe this is the last chapter! It's been almost a year since I started on it and now it's all done! 
> 
> I couldn't have done it without [KatyTheInspiredWorkaholic](%E2%80%9D), not only was she a wonderful beta, but she was a shoulder to cry on and a wall to throw things against to see if they would stick.
> 
> Of course, there were many people that supported me through this process, even when it wasn't easy, people that didn't give up on me or throw in the towel. Thank you.
> 
> And thank you, dear reader, for sticking with this and recc'ing it and being excited for each new chapter. All the kudos, comments, bookmarks and subscribes made me giddy.

The first day that Rick tried to catch Daryl by the creek, Daryl saw him first and turned Roamer around and headed back out to wherever he’d just come from. Rick spent the rest of the day listening to the  C hief give him grief about being respectful of his elders and watching the clouds skitter across the sky.

The second day showed more promise. Rick hid himself behind a pile of big rocks and waited for Daryl. Roamer was kind enough not to alert Daryl to Rick’s presence this time, so Daryl was already in the creek washing off when he spotted Rick. He huffed out an exasperated breath and quickly finished his bath, not looking at Rick again as he high tailed it out of there. The he'émáné'e had important business with  C hief Cliff Above the River all that day, so Rick didn’t get a lecture this time.

Rick was surprised on the third day when Lightning on the Mountain from the other tribe approached him as he waited by the creek. Rick had seen the man earlier in the day, looking for the girl he wanted to court.

He gestured farther upstream, “Short Arrow has found a new place to bathe. Less rocks for you to hide behind.”

Rick sighed and got to his feet, “Just down here?” He asked as he point ed where the man had.

A short nod was all the answer Rick got. 

Daryl was just gathering his clothes after his bath when Rick found him. He still didn’t talk to Rick, but didn’t run off in a snit, just leisurely put his clothes on and walked away.

Rick counted that as progress.

He found the he'émáné'e, Flower in the Thorns, and reported what had happened. She smiled at him and advised that he wait for Daryl by his tent.

“Don’t forget your blanket,” she said as Rick thanked her. He wasn’t sure what that meant, but whatever it was, he would do  anything  she said.

So Rick swallowed his pride and found a blanket and sat outside of Daryl’s tent all day waiting for him to come back from wherever he had gone. The rest of the villagers drifted by in ones and twos and then more. Some even found a spot to stop and stare. The he'émáné'e eventually came and ran them off, but Rick was pretty sure they were laughing at him behind their hands.

It was dusk before Daryl finally showed up. He hurried up to Rick and hissed, “What are you doing? I am no girl to be courted!”

“Well, you won’t talk to me.” Rick protested.

“I have nothing to tell you and I do not wish to hear what you will say.” Daryl said as he stood above Rick with his arms crossed.

Rick stood up, “I will wait right here until you  _ are  _ willing to hear what I have to say.”

“Then you will be there for a long time. And you will miss your harvest.”

“I don’t care. I just want you to hear me out and give me a second chance,” Rick said as he looked hard into Daryl’s eyes.

Daryl tilted his head, “You would miss your harvest to talk to me?”

Rick nodded, “The only thing that would tear me away from here right now is if my kids needed me.”

Daryl chewed his lip and looked at a spot beyond Rick’s shoulder before finally answering, “We will talk tomorrow.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, Rick said, “Thank you,” but Daryl had already walked away.

***

Rick had expected that they would talk after Daryl came back from his morning hunt - after Daryl’s ritual bath - but no, Rick was woken with the sun by the  C hief, “Short Arrow wishes to take you to hunt.”

He was still trying to rub the sleep from his eyes when the  C hief chided him, “You must hurry, Short Arrow will not wait long.”

Scrambling to his feet, Rick grabbed his boots and hat before falling out the front of the tipi. The smirk Daryl gave him told Rick that his clumsiness was not missed. But if he’d made Daryl laugh, well, that was another win.

Daryl strode off leaving Rick in a heap trying to put his boots on and wondering when he could stop for a leak. 

When Rick caught up to Daryl, Roamer was already saddled and ready to go, Daryl holding his head and talking to him in a low voice. Rick quickly saddled Walker and excused himself behind a tree for a moment. Daryl had that same smirk as before when Rick was finished. 

Daryl led a hard pace out of the village and into the woods on the other side of the creek. It didn’t look there would be any talking until they got to wherever Daryl was planning on hunting. 

But once they’d stopped at a place that Daryl deemed acceptable, Daryl wouldn’t allow Rick to talk. Just  pointed  out birds and rabbits that Rick would have loved to have shot if he’d have brought his rifle. He had been more interested in talking to Daryl than hunting and had thought Daryl would feel the same, so he’d left it back at the village.

Rick ended up just watching Daryl hunt , a nd  then  running after the game so Daryl could stay where he was. Almost as if Rick were being punished. And maybe he was, but Rick was willing to take his lumps to prove to Daryl that he was contrite.

He resigned himself to another day without talking, but at least they had spent some time together. He still had another week to convince Daryl to forgive him and come home. And as much as he wanted to stay until they’d cleared the air, he really couldn’t leave the corn harvest to rot in the field. He needed the money from selling it to carry the family over the winter, he would push it to the last minute it if it meant getting Daryl back.

Rick was surprised when Daryl led them to a bend in the creek and started to set up a campfire. He quickly shook it off and began  to help put  stones in a circle. Just like old times, except for they didn’t have any of the gear they’d had before and the easy camaraderie was gone - replaced with edgy silence.

It was only mid-day, so Rick wasn’t sure what Daryl had in mind, but still followed his lead. Skinning and butchering the small game, starting the fire, setting up the spit for the meat. All of it done by rote. And still not more than a grunt out of Daryl.

Daryl left Rick to cook their lunch to go to the nearby creek. Rick could just make out Daryl taking his buckskins off for a bath in the clear water, just like he’d done every other day. It just occurred to Rick that Daryl hadn’t taken nearly as many baths when they were on the trail before. Was it because he’d been shy in front of Rick? Could Rick not have noticed? Daryl had usually been up first. Or was it something else.

The meat was only a little burnt, Rick eyeing Daryl bathing more than the meat cooking, but it was salvageable. Especially since Rick ate the burnt parts and gave the rest to Daryl. Half an hour of eating and no talking followed.

Long minutes went by and still nothing from Daryl. He barely even looked at Rick, just  stared  out across the land with a near vacant look. The pain from Rick’s betrayal couldn’t have been more plain than if Daryl had written it across his face. Rick had to fix it. He wouldn’t be silent any longer.

“Da...Short Arrow. I thought you wanted to talk.”

Daryl flicked his eyes in Rick’s direction and then back at the far point that seemed to have all his attention, “You wanted to talk. I wanted you to go home, but you would not.”

Rick’s head jerked back as if hit. That was a hard blow. Daryl did not want him here. But Rick had to try, needed to win Daryl back, or at least have Daryl forgive him - selfish as that may be.

“I just wanted to talk and tell you…”

Daryl jerked up and started pacing around the fire, “You wished to make a fool of me in my village. Coming here like a man seeking a bride and trying to court me.”

Rick stood up, too, and put his hands on his hips, “The he'émáné'e told me that was what I had to do to get you to talk to me.”

Shaking his head Daryl said, “The he'émáné'e sees love when there isn’t any.”

“No,” Rick said as he took a step forward and reached for Daryl, “That’s not true. There is love there. I know, I saw it.”

Daryl closed his eyes and crossed his arms, “You, Rick. You do not have love. Not  for  me.”

Rick threw up his hands and turned away, “I was wrong! What I did was wrong! You deserve better, I know.” He stopped and ran his hands through his hair, “I was lying to you, but I was lying to myself more. I didn’t think I could ever love anyone after Lori.”

Daryl’s lips thinned as he listened. He stared at Rick’s back for a long moment before speaking, “You made me think you wanted me, that we would be together.”

“I know. I just needed to get you back so that I could dump you off on Merle. But, damn it, after that fucking warden locked you up and threatened to keep you there, I just...lost my shit. And I realized during those two weeks that I did want you in my life. I still don’t know how that works, but I do.” Rick looked at Daryl, his eyes wet and pleading.

“You still do not say you love me,” Daryl whispered.

Rick shook his head and gestured at Daryl, “Well you haven’t told me either.”

Daryl huffed out a breath and turned to the fire, kicking dirt over the flames. “Go home to your family, Rick. Marry Beth and have some more children.”

“Damn it, Daryl! I don’t love her, I love you.” Rick cried.

Daryl stopped, but didn’t turn back to Rick. 

“I don’t know how else I can prove it. I followed you here to your village and had all of them laughing at me because I’m acting like a fool in love, but I’d do it all again. Please Daryl, I don’t want anyone else but you.”

Daryl wiped a hand over his eyes and turned back to Rick, “Kiss me.”

Rick’s heart stopped in his chest, a look of shock all over his face.

Shaking his head, Daryl turned away again. “Why are you even here?”

But Rick wasn’t going to give up, striding forward he grabbed Daryl’s arm and turned him around. Looking deep into his eyes Rick said, “I love you, Short Arrow. I love you more than there are stars in the sky or fish in the sea.” And then Rick pulled Daryl close, molding their bodies together and kissing him with all the passion he could muster.

Daryl was passive at first, hands slack and hanging by his hips, but when Rick let a hand drift up Daryl’s back and played with the hair at the nape of his neck, Daryl was his. 

Their hands were soon all over each other and then clothes were dropping to the ground. It was like they hadn’t been apart for the better part of a month, but also like they hadn’t seen each other in a lifetime. 

The dusty ground was probably not the best or most romantic place to make love, but they did it anyway. Both exploring the other’s body like it was the first time. Daryl’s hands firmer and more sure than they’d ever been. Rick touching Daryl with long smooth strokes as though committing him to memory. 

“I’m sorry, I love you.” Rick chanted between kisses.

“I love you,” Daryl said as he was poised above Rick.

It was all so much, being back in Daryl’s arms. A dream come true. And for every ‘I love you’ that Rick whispered, Daryl said it right back. There was no going back, no more rationalization, no more hiding from his feelings. Rick loved Daryl and Daryl loved Rick. 

They lay there in the dirt, catching their breath for a long moment before Rick started feeling sticky and uncomfortable. He really didn’t want to get up, but it was hot and the flies were buzzing about.

“You up for another bath?” Rick asked.

Daryl smirked and said, “I will, but you need it more.”

Rick laughed because that was most likely true. He was covered in dirt and had the evidence of their lovemaking all over and leaking out of him. He was up and halfway to the creek before Daryl came running after and pulling Rick into a clumsy hug.

“Tomorrow, we will go back to your homestead,” he whispered in Rick’s ear.

Rick’s heart stuttered with relief. He’d won Daryl back. And they were going home together. “It’s our homestead now.” he whispered back.

They took their time with the bath, washing each other and stealing kisses. It wasn’t long before they were overcome with want and awkwardly made love in the water, laughing the whole time.

They’d spent far too much time fooling around and talking before they quickly put out the fire and saddled up for the ride back. By the time they got back to the village the sun was just starting to hit the horizon. 

Flower in the Thorns smiled brightly at them as they walked through the village after leaving the horses with the other animals. Rick tried not to look, but he couldn’t help it and found himself grinning sheepishly at her. Daryl had a little smirk on his face that she couldn’t fail to notice. 

“She would not stop talking about you. I think she sees love in every tree.” Daryl said.

Rick laughed and decided that the next time he came to the village, he would bring her an appropriate gift. 

They slept in Daryl’s tipi that night and left early for the long trek back to Kansas. Daryl was bringing Biter with him, “I would be shamed out of a girl’s village for only having two horses to offer.”

Rick laughed him off and said, “I have four more horses at home besides Walker and Nick, I guess I would be okay?”

“No,” Daryl scoffed.

***

A week in the saddle brought them back home. Home to where Hershel, Beth, Carl and baby Judith had waited patiently for Rick to come back. Home to where Carl ran into his daddy’s arms and Judith raised her pudgy arms to Daryl. 

“Glad to see you , son,” Hershel said to Rick.

“Glad to be home,” Rick replied.

“Daryl!” Carl cried and ran to the bemused man. “Will you show me how to shoot a bow now?”

Smiling down at Carl, Daryl said, “I will show you how to make a bow and arrows. Then you can learn to shoot.”

“Bethie’s got some exciting news for you Rick,” Hershel said.

Rick sucked in a nervous breath, hoping it wasn’t wedding plans still after him running after Daryl.

“Dad!” She cried in mock indignation. Turning to Rick she said, “The green grocer’s son, Zack, he’s asked me to marry him.”

Rick let out his breath and hugged Beth close, “That’s wonderful! When’s the big day?”

“Well, we were waiting for you to get home and then I guess after the corn comes in. I’d like you all to be there. You too, Daryl.” She said with a pretty smile.

Rick answered for the both of them, “We’d be honored.”

That night , after a fine dinner of beef with some early ripened ears of corn and freshly baked bread , Rick and Hershel  spoke while  out checking on the corn.

“Think it’ll all be ready middle of next week if the weather holds out,” Rick said.

“I believe you’re right,” Hershel replied as he examined a n ear. “Glad you brought Daryl back.”

Rick paused and looked at Hershel, “Me too. Just worried about what the townsfolk will say when they find out.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that. ‘Sides they’d be more worried about him being a half-breed than what you all do in your bedroom.” Hershel said with a snort.

“He’s not a half breed!” Rick said in exasperation.

“Rick, I know that and you know that. But if they are more worried about who his daddy is, they won’t have time to worry about anything else.”

“You really think it will be ok?” Rick asked.

“If it’s not, the Cheyenne will take you all in, they won’t give a damn. But them reservation agents and the missionaries might, so you’d have to steer clear of ‘em.”

Rick sighed and rubbed his nose, “This isn’t going to be easy, is it?” 

Hershel smiled and said, “No, but no one ever said love was.”

“No, I guess they didn’t,” Rick said.

As they walked back to the house in the twilight, Rick saw Daryl standing by Lori’s grave. His curiosity got the better of him so he trudge over to the little headstone.

“She had a great heart.” Daryl said without looking up.

Rick nodded and put his hand on top of the tombstone, “She did. But how do you figure?”

“When I look at Carl and Judith, I see you, but I also see something else. Courage and kindness and a great heart.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Lori. I bet she’d like you.” Rick said.

Daryl nodded and turned and started toward the house, “I would like her. She must have been a very wise woman. Strong of spirit and mind.”

“Yes,” was all Rick could say as he followed Daryl.

“Like a mother bear with her cubs,” Daryl continued.

“Exactly, but really, how do you know?”

“Because she loved you. And you have the heart of a bear.”

Rick smiled and grabbed Daryl’s hand. It would be hard, but they would make it work, he knew it. Because Daryl might think Rick had the heart of a bear, but Rick  _ knew _ Daryl did. And they could overcome anything for this love they shared, even if they had to fight like one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I thought long and hard about an epilogue and got other's input too, but there just isn't going to be one. And I don't think I will write in this universe again. Please don't hold that against me! 
> 
> I _am_ working on the long awaited follow up to Lost in the Woods, and hopefully that will be up before the end of the summer. 
> 
> Again, thank you so much for reading and supporting this prompt that got out of hand!

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, I did a shit ton of research for this fic because I did not live in the late 1880s nor have I ever lived in Kansas, Nebraska, Wyoming, or Montana. And while I have met many Native Americans, I am in no way an expert on Native American Culture. 
> 
> This fic is written from Rick's perspective and he will have misunderstandings and outright confusion, please forgive him (and me). If you see any glaring inaccuracies, please let me know. Also, the buffalo are doing a lot better in my fic than they did in real life. By 1895 they were almost entirely wiped out. Luckily enough were saved that we still have some today. Not the great herds from 200 years ago, but it's a start.
> 
> It has been brought to my attention that some people have taken issue with me writing about Native American culture. I have tried my best to be as accurate as possible, but I am willing to be educated. I apologize in advance if anyone takes offense. I do have people of Native American descent reading this before I post, but that may be enough. Again, please contact me via my tumblr page and I will discuss with you. My tumblr is the same as my AO3 pseudo.


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